


Between The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

by KylesMonster



Category: Long Exposure (Webcomic)
Genre: Gay Pirates, Little Mermaid AU, M/M, Pirate AU, Slow Burn, gratuitous references, if this story can be even half as good as that i'll be happy, inspired af by the beauty and the beast fic, it's my fav i read it annually, my first big multichapter fic so like bear with me, need i say more, rating may change depending on certain things, will mention death and drowning, yes im gay and yes i listen to the pirates of the caribbean ost when i write who do u think i am
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:47:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24053101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KylesMonster/pseuds/KylesMonster
Summary: "He thought back to everything Dean had said to him. The disgust and disapproval in his tone when Jonas voiced any curiosity about the strange people who walked on the land. How little he felt when Dean would scold him for innocently “playing human” with his sister. “They’re immoral.” He’d say. “They’re monsters. Don’t idolize them.” And it stung especially when he'd be staring a little too long upward, and Dean made the passing comment of “Maybe if you kept your head out of the clouds and back in the water where it belonged, you’d be able to get more done.”  Jonas’ brow furrowed, and he tightened his grip around the yellow cloth in his grasp. He took one more look at the ship, which was only half above water, and now almost completely empty of its passengers. The woman in the water still maintained her stance, face buried against the boy in her arms.He had to get a closer look."The Long Exposure Little Mermaid/Pirate AU that I’ve FINALLY gotten around to writing, bc I need Pirate!Mitch in my life. This story has been in my head for a year now. Bless.
Relationships: Mitch Mueller/Jonas Wagner
Comments: 51
Kudos: 84





	1. A Cutlass. An Apple.

The waves hit angrily against the shore of the cove as the slate gray clouds swirled and plumed against the slowly dying winds. A humble ship, whose recently torn sails and cracked body moaned against its own weight, now sat slumped at an angle against the rocky walls. A few figures could be seen jumping off of the ship and into the chest-deep waters, turning to help down the others on board. Their voices echoed as they called to one another, words of encouragement and assurance. A woman, adorning a dirtied gown of white and turquoise, and whose blonde, wavy hair was wild and breeze blown, jumped down, holding a young boy tightly to her chest. A man moved close to her, saying something that couldn’t be heard amongst the waves and splash landings of more people exiting the wreck. She wiped at her face furiously, shaking her head and running a hand over the boy’s shaven head in a comforting motion. He kept his face hidden in the crook of her neck, and she remained still, appearing to have no immediate plans on moving onto the beach along with the others. 

Jonas peeked out further from his position behind a nearby jagged rock, eyes wide, and heart in his throat. 

He couldn’t believe what was happening. 

The ship had been a dark spot on the surface above him as the storm was hitting. He wouldn’t have even noticed it if it wasn’t for a square piece of bright yellow fabric that had floated down from above, catching his eye as it stood out amongst the grays and blues of the ocean floor. He caught it, and rubbed his fingers over the silky object. He had no idea what it was for, but something in him sparked to life at the contact. Looking up, he could see a few wooden barrels falling from where the ship sailed. And, going against everything he’d been told in his life, he made the decision to follow it. Not too close, but never far away enough away that he would lose sight. It was only when Jonas had heard the scraping of wood against stone that he found the nearest hiding spot and surfaced, waiting to see what these strange creatures, these _freaks_ and _monsters,_ as Dean had called them, would do. And the answer to that, Jonas noted, seemed to be... to help one another. 

They certainly didn’t _seem_ like monsters. 

He thought back to everything Dean had said to him. The disgust and disapproval in his tone when Jonas voiced any curiosity about the strange people who walked on the land. How little he felt when Dean would scold him for innocently “playing human” with his sister. _“They’re immoral.”_ He’d say. _“They’re monsters. Don’t idolize them.”_ And it stung especially when he’d be staring a little too long upward, and Dean made the passing comment of _“Maybe if you kept your head out of the clouds and back in the water where it belonged, you’d be able to get more done.”_ Jonas’ brow furrowed, and he tightened his grip around the yellow cloth in his grasp. He took one more look at the ship, which was only half above water, and now almost completely empty of its passengers. The woman still maintained her stance, face buried against the boy in her arms. 

He had to get a closer look. 

Dipping under the water where he was safe from view, Jonas made his way toward the wrecked ship. He accidentally splashed the surface with his speckled tail as he drew closer, and sped up so as to not be spotted. As he approached it, he saw that there was a large hole in the bottom of the hull; large enough for Jonas to easily slip into. His heart was beating a mile a minute, and he could feel the adrenaline coursing through his body as his curiosity pushed him forward. Barrels, like the ones that fell into the sea earlier, floated around him, along with some colorful, peculiar looking objects he couldn’t identify. They smelled sweet. He swam around them as he made his way to the other side of the ship, hoisting himself up to sit on a lopsided shelf. A crack in the ship’s wall allowed him to peer through, viewing the two legged creatures at a proximity that he, never in his eleven years of life, would think he’d get a chance to. 

The woman was turned away from him, but he could make out the boy in her arms.He couldn’t have been much older than Jonas himself. He was staring into nothing, an almost angry look on his face. Jonas heard the woman sniff. 

Suddenly, the boy snapped his head up, looking at the ship, and began to squirm in the woman’s arms. Jonas jumped back, fearing for a moment that the boy had somehow seen him, and was coming to confirm his sighting. But he relaxed as soon as he heard what the boy was shouting.

“My cutlass! I need my cutlass!”

Jonas tilted his head in curiosity, and mouthed the word a couple of times. _Cutlass_. What was a...cutlass? The boy freed himself from the woman’s grasp, splashing and sputtering loudly in the water, and went to move toward the ship, but the woman grasped him carefully by the arm, shaking her head, but not making any sound from what Jonas could hear.

“Ma, let me _go!_ ” the boy shouted. He looked desperate, with his face twisted in a panicked expression, and his arm reaching out in Jonas’ direction. He knew, of course, that it wasn’t _him_ the boy was reaching for, but it still made his stomach twist nervously. 

“Hey!”

The piercing, angry voice of a man made Jonas nearly fall back into the water. The man in question, a none too friendly looking character, plodded over towards the boy and his mother, who didn’t hesitate to scoop the child back into her arms protectively. Fearfully.

“The fuck are you whining about, some fucking sword? Really?” he snarled. “If you want to follow in that damned _pirates’_ footsteps, be my guest.” Jonas’ heart clenched. Pirates. He’d heard of pirates. They were the worst of them all, he’d been told. Would kill their own at random and without a second thought. Would torture their crew. Would ruin the lives of anyone they could, in any way they could. Is that what happened to these people? They ran into pirates in the storm?

The man huffed. “You see what happens to those dirty fuckers.”

The mother, whose blonde hair still hid most of her face from Jonas’ view, seemed to shift in stance. She was shaking, but Jonas sensed it was in something other than sadness or fear. The aggressive man scowled down at her.

“Get him under control and just get to the damn shore already.”

Jonas looked on in fear. There was an unfortunate familiarity in the man’s tone, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to watch if the situation kept going like this. Or, heaven forbid, if it escalated. Thankfully, it seemed as though the worst of it was over, and the mother, rubbing the boy’s back, made her way toward the beach. Jonas watched them walk off, noticing the sad expression on the boy as he gazed back at the ship.

And with that, Jonas was alone. For a few minutes, he stayed sitting upon the shelf. He couldn’t hear or see much else coming from the humans once they ventured onto the shore, no matter how hard he strained his ears and squinted his eyes. Jonas sighed, releasing all of the tension he had been holding in his shoulders. He still couldn’t believe he was here right now. He still couldn’t believe how close he had been.

The water sloshed gently against the ship’s wooden walls, and Jonas felt something bump lightly into one of his flippers. Glancing down, Jonas saw one of the fragrant...things, floating in the water below him. He plucked it out of the water, and ran a thumb over its shiny, red surface. He brought it to his nose, and sniffed. It smelled very sweet. It had to have been edible, right? Regardless, he definitely shouldn’t be sticking unknown objects into his mouth. 

Just like he shouldn’t have followed a human ship and gotten almost close enough to touch them. 

Oh, what the heck.

The resounding echo from the crunch startled him, and he kept the piece he bit off in his mouth for a moment. Waiting for something to indicate that trying to eat something he’s never seen before might’ve been a mistake. But the only thing he found was that it tasted even better than it smelled. Slowly, a smile began to form on Jonas’ features, and he relished in the novelty of the unique flavor.

Jonas looked around the interior of the ship. He thought about everything he had just witnessed. The crash, the crying woman, the desperate boy, the angry man. And despite all of the fear that he felt, and everything he’s been told about these people...looking around at the magnificent structure he found himself in, and tasting the sweetness on his tongue, Jonas couldn’t help but think there was more to them. After all, how could a group of people, who were supposedly only up to no good, have such amazing things?

Jonas took one last glance at his surroundings, and then back down to the sweet treat with the sharp bite taken out of it. It was going to start getting dark soon. 

Falling back into the water, Jonas decided he was going to return to this place. There was so much to still explore. So many things he wanted to see. So much to learn about this world that was always right above them. 

Sidney was _not_ going to believe this. 

***

“You’re _totally_ sure about this, Jojo?” asked Sidney, sitting comfortably against the sands of the beach beside her brother. She looked relaxed. Enjoying the mid morning sun and the warmth of the shore, sand in the wet tangles of her hair, and the cores of the red treats that Jonas introduced her to, scattered around where they lay. She spoke, however, with uncertainty still clear in her voice. “I mean, you know I support your hobbies, but are you sure you’re going to be able to keep this collection stuff from Dean?”

Jonas glanced at the ship in the water, where he had started to stack what human-made curiosities he could find against the walls and broken shelves. Just wherever they would fit. There wasn’t much at the moment. He still hadn’t explored the ship in its entirety, as it was more difficult to get to some places than others. But so far, he had a delicate looking figurine of a woman, a _very_ strange object filled with symbols that he couldn’t understand and pictures of different birds, and a gold locket that ticked, and opened to reveal even more odd symbols he couldn’t comprehend.

And, from a broken plank of wood, near where Jonas had sat to peer out on the humans the day before, hung a curved blade in a black sheath. What Jonas could only guess was a...cutlass.

Jonas looked at Sidney, conviction in his eyes.

“I’m sure.”

***

Mitch was pissed.

He couldn’t even put to words why, but he was more pissed off than he had probably been in his entire life. His knuckles were bruised from where he had tried punching a hole in the wall of his room, and his arm was bruised from where Gary had been woken up in his attempt. 

He just needed to get his cutlass back. 

Mitch waited until morning, when his mom had gone out to sell some of the fish they had managed to salvage from the wreck, before pulling on his tattered shoes and creeping out of the house. He sprinted through the streets, getting shouted at as he almost bowled one woman over in his haste. He made it into the woods, tripping over the roots of a tree a time or two, until he came upon the cliff side he, his mom, and the rest of the crew had been made to climb the week prior. He’d have come out here sooner, if his mom hadn’t been keeping such a close eye on him lately. Constantly wondering about where he was going. And, being his mom, Mitch found he couldn’t lie to her. He knew how bad she was doing already, he didn’t want to give her any more to worry about. 

But he couldn’t just leave his cutlass in the sea. He _had_ to get it back.

He squinted down to where the sorry looking vessel sat slouched in the sea, seeing if he could find some way to get where he needed without having to swim. His eyes scanned the scene carefully, but he didn’t know if he was going to be able to—

Wait.

“The fuck…” Mitch mumbled to himself. 

As he brought his attention to where the water met the stern, a dark shape darted just out of view.

Mitch leaned his body carefully over the edge, scrunching up his face, trying to make out what was in the water. But as he kept tilting forward, he heard the stones under his feet start to fall, and his gaze snapped down just in time to see the ground give out below him. 

_“Shit—!”_

Falling _down_ the cliffside, Mitch discovered, was much worse than being made to go _up_ it. And the resulting faceplant in the sand had him coughing up a lung.

Once he could breathe air again, he sat up, let out a frustrated yell, grabbed the nearest rock, and threw it at the dirt wall that now bore the imprints of his fall. The rock bounced off and hit him square in the face. He yelled again.

Stupid fucking cliff. 

Stupid fucking rock. 

Stupid fucking ship.

Stupid fucking cutlass.

Stupid fucking _Freddie_.

He was going to get that damn cutlass back. And he was going to throw it in the ocean with the asshole who gave it to him. 

Suddenly, Mitch was brought out of his seething by a distant giggle. He snapped his attention back to the ship. 

No one there.

At least, no one he could _see._

Scrambling to his feet, Mitch grabbed another rock and walked slowly over to where he could stare at the ship head on. He kicked off his shoes and plodded into the water until it reached his knees, soaking his pants.

“Who’s over there!” he demanded with a squeak. He held the stone close and puffed out his chest. “I _know_ yer there!”

Stepping further out, he surveyed the area carefully. 

Nothing.

Maybe he was just going crazy. Wouldn’t be much of a surprise. 

Mitch walked until the waves were lapping at his chest, and he realized there was no way he was going to be able to reach the boat without swimming to get there. He huffed in frustration. Great. Was he really going to risk drowning to get that dumb sword? 

The sun peeked out from behind the clouds, and lit up the waters around him. The glare got in his eyes. He dug his toes in the sand, feeling the shells against his feet. Swinging his arm back, he threw the rock as hard as he could. It landed just short of the ship’s bow. Next to something red that was floating in his direction. Mitch squinted. 

An apple?

He waited with surprising patience for the fruit to get close enough for him to grab, and when he did, he just stared at it blankly. Some of the ship’s storage must have gotten busted open during….

Mitch returned his gaze to the boat, still trying to see if anything was going to pop out at him from the corner. He raised the fruit high in the air and waved it around.

“Hey, come out, I heard you laugh!” he tried calling again. “Want an apple?”

His shouting, unsurprisingly, was getting him nowhere. Mitch sighed.

Fuck it.

Tossing the apple back into the sea, Mitch took a deep breath, and dove forward. 

He really should try to plan out a course of action before he threw himself into these sorts of things. 

Kicking his feet and flailing his arms wildly, Mitch found that he wasn’t sure he was really getting anywhere at all. His paddle was more of an awkward punching motion, and he couldn’t get his legs to move in tandem with his arms anyway. He kept at it for as long as he could, but it didn’t take long for his lungs to start burning, and Mitch decided that maybe he should just resurface, and try to do this another way. But as he tried to find somewhere to put his feet, his heart dropped.

He couldn’t feel the floor.

Did he swim farther out than he thought? Where was he now? His eyes were squeezed shut, so he hadn’t been able to see where he was going, or where he had ended up. His kicking became even more erratic as he tried to swim upward, but the harder he kicked, the worse the burning in his chest became, and his heart thumped so hard that it became the only thing he could hear. He released the breath he was holding, and against his will, his instinctively took another breath in. Breathing in salt water.

It hit Mitch suddenly that he was going to die. And the only thing that he could think about was his mom. How heartbroken she was going to be. How much this was going to hurt her. To lose both of her children in a week’s time. Why did he do this? Why was he such an idiot? Why was he _always_ such a fucking idiot?

With no more energy to struggle any more, Mitch let himself open his eyes, darkness creeping in from the corners of his vision as he looked out into the sea. Rays of sunlight shone through the water, sparkling in the blue. It was actually kind of pretty.

He could feel a sudden gust, as though something swam past him, but he didn’t have the strength to be interested. Not even when he felt something wrap around his torso, and begin to drag him through the water. He saw what looked like the speckled tail of a seal as he was pulled up, out of the water, and into a very dimly lit place. His eyes drooped close, but as he was laid against the surface of something cold and wet, he forced them open a little. The only thing he could make out in the darkness was a silhouette of _something_ that was looking down at him. And as unconsciousness began to take over, he noticed that whatever it was had big, green eyes. Sort of like seaweed. Or maybe like the leaves on the trees. And that they were, actually, kind of pretty. 

***

The first thing Mitch noticed when he woke up was the fact that he wasn’t dead. He took a deep breath in, and immediately started hacking up a lung.

He felt like _shit._

He dug his fingers into the sand beneath him, and groaned in pain. After taking a moment to adjust, he sat up slowly and took in his surroundings with half lidded eyes. The sun was in the middle of the sky now. At least he wasn’t passed out on the beach for too long, lest the tide came in. Mitch’s brow furrowed.

He was on the beach.

How did he get on the beach?

The creaking of the ship in the distance drew his attention. And as soon as his gaze fell upon it, his eyes blew wide open. The memory of his experience rushing upon him like a tidal wave. The green eyes that had been burned into his brain coming front and center. 

“Holy _fuck_ …” he croaked. 

That wasn’t a dream. It couldn’t have been. It was far too real.

As Mitch sat in silence, trying to wrap his mind around whatever it was that he had seen, a dark shape in the corner of his eye caught his attention. And upon turning to it, he felt his heart stop. The cutlass sat beside him. Placed there with such care and intention, that if he had any doubts before of the reality of what had just taken place, he certainly didn’t now. Grabbing the weapon, he unsheathed it quickly, and ran his fingers over the ‘FM’ engraved into the blade, just under the hilt.

_Holy fuck_.

With one last glance at the shipwreck in the water, Mitch sheathed the sword, slung the band over his shoulder, and began scrambling up the cliff as quick as his body would allow. He ran as fast as he could back in the direction of his home. Back to his mom.

He just saw a mother fucking _mermaid_.

And it fucking _saved his life_.

***

That night, in a large grotto on the seafloor, with different rooms lit up by bioluminescent decorations, Jonas lay on his flat, stone bed as he studied the red fruit in his hands. He ran his thumbs over it almost reverently. A grin a mile wide gracing his features.

“An Apple.”


	2. Divide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so tired holy shit lmao
> 
> This one turned out actually a lot different than in my head. Also I keep having to split up chapters bc there is just.....so much I'm tryin to do? uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh yep...also this is probably the fastest it'll ever update lmao, u can expect the next one in either like 1 or 2 weeks! Depends on my work schedule tbh.
> 
> ... I may have to up the rating of this story hmmmmmmmm...

The human boy was back. 

Jonas was honestly surprised to see him again. After his near death experience the other day, he expected that the kid wouldn’t want to step on another beach for as long as he lived. But lo and behold, there he was, making it down the cliff side, taking much more care this time around as to where to place his steps. Safe at the bottom, he made his way across the beach. 

Jonas kept a close eye on him from his high up position by the bowsprit. Leaning his back against the protruding post, he poked his nose over the side of the ship. 

The boy below him stood at the edge of the tide, bearing a look of determination. He kicked his shoes off and threw his tunic on the ground. He inched into the water. Paused. Inched some more. Paused again to look around, as though to be sure he wasn’t being watched. And inched further, until he was waist deep in the sea, and the waves pulled and pushed against his body.

Jonas frowned. He wasn’t going to have to save this kid again, was he? 

He watched as the boy stuck out his tongue, and began moving his arms in large, stroking motions through the air. Practicing. If Jonas could even call it that.

The boy lowered himself carefully into the water, and kicked off. He flailed about for a moment, and brought himself back to a standing position, wobbling as he steadied himself. He repeated the process, attempting to keep himself above the water with his thrashing, but not being very successful. He grunted as a wave washed over him, and sputtered as he stood back up. Unable to maintain his balance this time, he fell backwards with a splash. He hoisted himself up yet again, spitting out sea water.

Jonas brought a hand to his mouth to stifle his laughter. This kid was...charming, if not a little ridiculous. 

The boy shouted in frustration and stomped in the water a few times. His shouting suddenly changed from anger to pain, and he hopped in place, grabbing his foot to pluck off a very upset crab from his toe. 

Okay,  _ very _ ridiculous. 

Jonas lifted himself higher so that he could rest his cheek against the bow’s smooth, wooden edge in contemplation. He remembered how desperate he felt the other day. How his need to help overrode his desire to stay hidden. It was a risk, but what else was he supposed to do? Just let him die? Even if he  _ was _ as horrible as all the humans Jonas was told to distrust, he didn’t think he could ever justify letting a person drown like that. Not even a human person. 

As the two legged creature continued to splash in the sea below, Jonas recalled how he had pulled him into the open hull of the ship and lay him against the wooden stairs at the corner, shaking as though he had just been stung by a jellyfish. He leaned over him in the dimly lit space, searching for signs of life. To his relief, the boy cracked his eyes open, and stared at him in a daze for a moment. Glad he was alive, but suddenly aware that he was being  _ seen _ , Jonas froze, unsure of what to do next. Luckily for him, he didn’t have to do anything, as the boy lulled his head to the side, passing out completely. He convulsed a little before coughing out seawater and groaning, before becoming still once more. 

Still fearful for the other boy’s life, Jonas reached out to touch his face. It was softer than it looked. And warmer. He moved to his chest, where he pressed his head, and waited. It couldn’t have been more than a second of a wait, but it somehow seemed so drawn out. Like life wanted to make him wait as long as physically possible before receiving any confirmation of the young man’s condition. But his fears were put to rest for good, as he felt, just as much as he heard, the strong strum of a heartbeat,  _ thump thump thumping _ against his ear.

Jonas sighed, and looked over the boy once more, before turning to look at the cutlass hanging by the shelf. 

He had saved the life of a human being.

And should he find out, Dean might _ actually _ kill him. 

Bringing himself back to the present, Jonas watched as the boy half swam, half thrashed about in the water. He still wasn’t a great swimmer by any means, but it actually did look like he was improving. He even made it a few feet without going under.

Standing to raise his hands in the air, the boy smiled victoriously.

“That’s right ya watery son of a fuck! I’m making you my  _ bitch _ !”

Jonas snorted out a giggle again, and, with a forlorn glance to the setting sun, slipped away into the lower parts of the ship, and back into the ocean.

***

The sun in all of its glory couldn’t pierce the blanket of clouds that day. 

Jonas sat on his shelf-perch in the darkness of the hull. He didn’t know how long he’d been there, and he didn’t really care. He glanced down at himself for a second, and then quickly looked away, as though the sight of himself was shocking. He wiped salt water off of his face with a dry hand.

He always thought that once he turned thirteen, he’d be different. Better, somehow. Braver. Smarter. Stronger, maybe. 

Or maybe at least a bit smaller, to better not be seen. 

_ “There’s nothing wrong with you, Jojo, we’re just made this way. Dean is just being a jerk.” _

Sidney’s words echoed in his mind like a comforting melody. Interrupting the waves of insults and snide remarks about himself that descended upon him during breakfast that morning. She had stayed with him in the ship for a while afterwards. Hugging him tightly as he blubbered his insecurities to her, and comforting him to the best of her ability. 

The love of his sister always worked wonders. He wasn’t a total mess anymore. 

But he wasn’t all put together again either. 

_ “You sure you’re going to be okay?” _

_ “Yeah, thanks Sid. I just...want to be by myself for a while.” _

Jonas sighed softly and curled in on himself some more, resting his cheek against his tail. He wondered if it was going to rain again. 

A splash in the water made him nearly jump out of his skin. He whipped around to peer out of the crack in the wooden planks, scanning the surface of the water outside. 

Strangely enough, he saw nothing. 

A moment later, however, the sound of something solid slapping against the ship, no more than a few feet to his left, reverberated against the walls. 

“ _ Fuck _ , okay...shit, how do I…”

Jonas’ eyes widened. He knew that voice. He hadn’t heard it in over a year, thinking that the boy maybe had moved away, or had given up in his attempt to learn to swim. But there was no denying the “sailor speak”. Or...whatever the human people had called it. Sailor talk. Talking sailor. Talks like a sailor, that was it! He talks like a sailor!

He may have developed a habit of eavesdropping on passing ships over the years.

To his left he heard the signature grunt of frustration, some more sailor-speaking, and finally, a large splash.

No denying it. It was definitely him. 

The boy slowly came into view as he kicked backwards into the water, clearly a much more skilled swimmer than the last he saw him. His brow was furrowed in thought, and his light brown hair...oh, he grew it out...clung to his face, wet and dripping. He glared at something higher up on the ship, well out of Jonas’ line of vision. 

He hadn’t been able to make it out very well those years ago in the darkness of the hull, but the boy’s eyes were a particularly pleasing shade of amber. 

“Ugh,” the young man groaned to himself. “Damn ropes...how am I gonna…”

Jonas knew precisely which ropes he was referring to. He had kept them rolled up together quite nicely when he had first begun to tidy up the wreck the best he could, during the first few months. The tails hung loosely over the edge, but nowhere near close enough for anyone to be able to get to from a low position. Maybe he should try to…

Try to what, exactly? Throw them down to the human before him? Give him access to this safe space he made for himself? Allow himself to be  _ seen _ ? Any excitement that Jonas might have had concerning helping this boy was immediately dashed by his crushing fear of being viewed. Especially in his current state. 

With a deep frown, Jonas looked down at himself. No, he didn’t think he’d like very much to be seen at all.

With his mood dropping further still, and his resignation to stay totally undetected and uninvolved with the two legged being strengthened, Jonas looked back up. Only to find that the boy was now staring directly at him, eyes squinted. 

With a light gasp, Jonas tore himself away from the gap and pressed himself against the wall, staying stark still. His heart pounded painfully in his chest, and he stiffened as he heard the distinct sound of the human wading over to get a closer look. He held his breath as he saw four pale fingers slide into the divide from which he observed the outside world. Luckily for Jonas, it was a small rift, so those fingers were as much as the kid could manage. He heard the boy hum thoughtfully. Soon, the fingers were gone, and for a moment, there was silence. Jonas relaxed a little, believing he was going to be off the hook soon.

He heard the boy speak to himself again.

“It might work, if I could...maybe just…”

Maybe the boy hadn’t seen him after all. Jonas thanked his lucky stars, and continued listening. More silence. 

He considered taking another peek, as his curiosity was prone to egging him. Just to see what exactly was happening on the other side. But before he could move, a sharp blade sliced quickly through the gap, wiggling wildly, as if in an attempt to break the planks further. 

Jonas couldn’t control the shout of surprise that escaped him. He slapped his hands over his mouth in a hurry, but the damage was already done. The blade poking through the ship froze in its administrations. It slid out, agonizingly slow. And the silence was back. This time, though, the tension that accompanied it was thick enough to be pierced with a spear. Or in this case, a cutlass. Jonas didn’t dare uncover his mouth. He wondered if it would be wise to put some distance between him and the wall, but even so, he remained, unable to move whether he wanted to or not.

The quiet was quickly becoming unbearable, and Jonas could feel the urge to just get the heck out of there rising inside him. The longer he sat there, the worse it got, until he lowered his hands to grasp at the edge of the perch, preparing himself to dive back into the water at the first sign of being movement. 

“It’s  _ you _ , ain’t it?’

The voice from the other side was softer and more calm than he thought the boy was capable of. Jonas still didn’t dare to look. 

“Yer that mermaid from before.”

Mer _ maid _ ? Despite his anxiety, Jonas felt the urge to roll his eyes.

“I’m right...ain’t I? You like hiding, but I know yer there. I’m not crazy. I  _ know  _ yer there.”

Jonas bit down on his lip hard, his sharp teeth leaving an indent in his skin. He heard the human slosh around some more and try to heave himself up, no doubt to try and peek through the gap, but plopping back down when he couldn’t manage to hold onto anything. He heard him grunt. 

“I ain’t gonna hurt ya, can you please just…” The boy sighed. “Can you please just  _ say  _ something?” 

“Merman.”

Jonas was shaking a bit, filled with a terrifying excitement. He didn’t know what he was doing. Something stupid, no doubt. But he couldn’t stop himself. The boy on the other side said nothing for a moment. 

“...Huh?”

“I’m not a mermaid.” Jonas spoke, louder this time. Less tremble to his voice. “I’m a boy. You mean merman.” 

More silence.

“...I didn’t know mermaids could be boys.”

Jonas did roll his eyes this time, the corners of his mouth twitching upward.

“Can you come out?” Asked the boy suddenly. Jonas blanched, immediately fearful again.

“Uh! Um...uh…”

“It’s okay,” spoke the human again, his voice still surprisingly soft. “You don’t gotta if you don’t wanna. I just wanted…”

Jonas relaxed again. 

“Why did you do that?”

Quirking an eyebrow, Jonas turned to examine the gap again, finding that the boy had placed his hand back inside of it. 

“What do you mean?” Jonas asked. Good merciful Poseidon, this felt weird.

“Saved me. Why did you do that?”

“Why...would I  _ not _ ?” Jonas retorted. The boy snorted.

“Well ain’t ya supposed to like...have deemed me worthy or some shit? Look into my soul and grant me a wish if I was good, or like, have me eaten by a sea monster if I’m a bastard or somethin’? Like in the stories?”

_ Stories? _

“Um...no, I don’t do that.”

“Oh.”

The ship creaked as a strong wind blew over them, whistling through the cracks. 

“My name’s Mitch, by the way.”

Jonas’ heart stuttered as he felt his mind split in two. The human had told him his name. It would only be right to return the favor. But the very idea of doing so made his stomach drop. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He tried again, but to no avail. He felt ridiculous, sitting there with his mouth hanging open like a surprised eel. 

“So uh...yeah, thanks I guess, for like,  _ not _ feeding me to a sea monster.”

Jonas laughed lightly.

“No problem.” he said, swallowing the lump in his throat. “ I might next time though, so don’t go drowning again.”

The human... _ Mitch _ , laughed back, boisterous and bordering on maniacal, but genuine, and rather fitting of him. 

“No promises.” Mitch said, his voice cracking from the glamorous effects of puberty. “I kinda feel like I owe ya one now though, mermaid boy.” 

“Mer _ man _ .”

“Whatever the fuck.”

Mitch’s hand disappeared from sight for a second, and Jonas heard him sloshing around in the water before returning it to its previous position. Only this time, something gold and shining hung from his fingers. Jonas cocked his head.

“What’s that?”

Mitch grunted on the other side, trying to pull himself up the side of the ship again.

“My trophy.” he said haughtily. “Snatched it...from a  _ pirate _ .” 

Jonas’ eyes widened. 

“ While he was too busy being a di— _ ah fuck! _ ”

Jonas laughed as Mitch lost his grip and fell backwards into the water. He found it in himself to be able to peek through the planks once again. 

“Full of grace as always, I see.”

Mitch glared toward the crack in the ship, spitting out salt water. “Yeah, yeah.” he said. “Yuck it up.”

Swimming back up to where Jonas was, he pushed the golden object through the crack and let it drop. Jonas grabbed for it in a hurry, catching it by the tail end of its chain. The pendant made a single ripple on the surface of the water beneath him before he lifted it up to inspect it more carefully. 

It was a locket. The pendant elliptical, and no bigger than his thumb. It had been marked up a bit, but was still gilded and pleasing to the eye. Etched on the front was the image of a blue whale. He opened it up, but there was nothing inside. 

“It’s pretty.” Jonas said, continuing to admire the human made object in his hands. He had come to accumulate a few more objects in his collection, but there really wasn’t, to his honest surprise, a lot of jewelry. Mostly he found spoiling foods or those strange cloths humans like to cover their whole bodies in. Or those collections of odd symbols and pictures which he had come to learn were called...oh what was it...bocks? Books! They were books. Oh, and some rather strangely elongated, silvery combs. Or at least what he could only guess were combs. What else would need such prongs? Jonas did find them quite useful to detangle particularly stubborn knots.

“Well, glad you like it,” said Mitch. “‘Cuz you can keep it.”

He could what?

“Wait...are you for real? You’re just giving this to me?” Jonas felt his heart speed up. 

“Yeah. Thank you gift or, ya know, whatever. I don’t exactly got much else.” 

At that, something inside of Jonas opened up, filling his chest with a warmth that was just as foreign to him as the human world.

“I..you can’t just...I mean,  _ I _ can’t take this from you, you don’t have to—”

“Ugh, just fuckin’ _ take _ it!” huffed Mitch. “It ain’t like I need it. Would’ve just sold it for some rum anyway.”

Jonas looked back at the locket in his hands, and ran his thumbs carefully over the image of the whale. It had been given such detail that he half expected to hear its song. 

“Well, alright...thank you.”

“It’s whatever.” the boy replied. 

“...Hey, Mitch?”

Jonas heard a gentle splash on the other side of the wall.

“What?” Mitch responded.

“What is....rum?”

It was weird how easy it was for Jonas to talk to him. Mitch allowed him to ask questions. Turns out the long comb he’d been using to detangle his hair was actually something called a fork. Which humans used to eat. Weird. Seemed to work as a detangler just fine, in Jonas’ humble opinion. 

Mitch asked questions too. Pretty reasonable ones for the most part, minus the one that made Jonas lobster-red in the face, which he absolutely  _ refused _ to answer, regardless of the human boy’s insistence. 

They continued that way for some time. Going back and forth. Quenching their curiosity, and laughing at the other’s antics. It was nice. 

But it couldn’t last the whole day.

“Are you okay?” Jonas asked as Mitch lay back in the water with a sigh, letting himself just float there for a minute. 

“Tired.” he groaned. Of course. In his excitement, Jonas had forgotten about the fact that Mitch wasn’t built to stay in the water for all that long. And he didn’t need a repeat of two years ago. 

“Can I see you?”

That question took Jonas by surprise for the second time that day. He swallowed. The fear was back. At the beginning, he associated it with being seen by a human being. Being afraid of them, and what they might do should they see him. But as Jonas struggled internally, he slowly realized that it wasn’t the idea of human interaction itself that shook him. Mitch was nice to him. He was goofy, and kind of strange, and yes, a little rough around the edges, but, ultimately, he was nice. So no, Jonas wasn’t afraid of Mitch. But if he showed himself to him, if he told him his name, if he made himself so  _ known _ , that’d make them friends, wouldn’t it? His interest alone in the human world made him a target of Dean’s aggression. And if he found out he collected their things, he’d be in worlds of trouble.

But if Dean ever found out he was  _ friends _ with one?

Jonas had suffered at the hands of his adoptive father before for fairly tame reasons. But this was unknown territory. He didn’t know how he’d react.

And he was scared.

Jonas fidgeted with the locket in his hands. His eyes flickered from the image of the whale, up to where he could see Mitch floating in the water, just a short distance away. His amber eyes turned skyward. Jonas took a deep breath.

“Okay.”

Mitch shot up.

“Really?” he asked eagerly.

“Yeah, but um,” Jonas started. “Just, not today? Um, will you be here tomorrow, or…?”

“Yeah!” Mitch shouted, before clearing his throat and trying to appear nonchalant. “Yeah, sure. Why? You need to bring a crew?”

Jonas chuckled.

“Something like that.”

***

Sidney sat on her stone bed with her arms crossed against her chest, casting a skeptical glance at her brother who floated before her.

“Come on, Sidney, please? Just real quick tomorrow morning. Half an hour, tops.”

She narrowed her eyes. 

“A few minutes?” Jonas reasoned. “ I just don’t want to be totally alone, please? You can trust him, I  _ promise _ .” He clasped his hands together like a prayer, and bared a toothy smile. 

Sidney took a slow, deep breath in. 

“Oh, fine. But if he tries to pull  _ anything _ I’m breaking his legs.”

***

The tide came in and washed away the pictures Jonas had made on the bank. He ran his finger over the wet sand again. And again, watched as it was swept away. He looked up at the cliff side with tired eyes. Sidney put a hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t think he’s coming, Jojo. I’m sorry.”

“I’ll just,” Jonas sighed. “Try again tomorrow I guess.”

With a sympathetic squeeze, Sidney shook her head.

“It’s been a week, Jonas. I really  _ don’t _ think he’s coming.” she said. She glanced over to the ship. “But uh, you said you found some cool looking combs the other day right? You never did show me.”

Jonas gave a doleful, but nonetheless grateful, smile to his sister.

“Yeah. They’re called forks actually. You won’t believe what they’re used for.”

***

He was going to get answers. He was going to get answers if it killed him. Or in this case, someone else. Someone who had it coming.

Blood poured steadily out of the wound that seeped from the slice to the man's abdomen. He was pale, clammy, and his face screwed up in pain. He grasped with white knuckles onto the only chair in the small kitchen, and stared darkly at the boy in front of him.

Mitch’s nostrils flared, and he grit his teeth. His eyes narrowed and gleamed, glazed over. His cutlass reflected the candle light, and drops of red fell from it onto the floorboards. 

  
“I  _ said _ ,” he began, his voice dripping with poison. “Where. The  _ fuck _ . Is my mom?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha waaaaat??


	3. Shark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work has been wild and my brain hurts so it's 3 days past my deadline oop anyway have fun

What free days Jonas had, he spent furthering his human research. He’d come a long way over the years. Humans lived in towns and cities. They wore cloths called trousers and shoes, capes and hats, bodices and petticoats. Along with forks, there were other utensils known as spoons and knives. The books he still couldn’t read, but he could identify some letters, as they were called. Humans had music, which is something he could say they had in common. But human music was far more enchanting than any sea song. They used more than their voices. They had flutes, which made Jonas think of birdsong, and “fiddles”. That word always made Jonas giggle. They danced around much more. And laughed. It was contagious. They also kept these very cute little creatures upon their ships called cats. More than once Jonas had climbed the side of a ship just to make direct acquaintance with a cat that had sniffed him out, their eyes wide as they emitted a soft rumbling noise that Jonas found quite sweet. He liked cats. 

If Jonas had to make an estimation of how many human things he’s managed to add to his collection, he would feel safe in saying it was in the hundreds. The hull of the ship was filled to the brim with treasures. Small, ornately decorated chests sat upon whatever shelves could house them. Jonas found them useful for keeping his forks in order. Jewelry hung from splintered planks. Pearls, gold medallions, and stones of every color of the rainbow swaying hypnotically whenever there was a breeze. Jonas had long since climbed the steps in the corner of the hull, which led out of the water and into what seemed to be sleeping quarters. Hammocks hung in rows to one side of the spacious upper floor. He found they were ideal for storing all the human cloths and regalia he’d come across. One hammock was completely dedicated to head wear. The long brimmed straw hats and dark caps decorated in feathery plumes fascinating him. 

Another staircase separated the hammocks from what appeared to be some type of kitchen space, if the rock hard bread and old fish were anything to go by. And it was there he discovered a trove of odd metal objects of various sizes. He did eventually learn they were used to cook meals, but if they hadn’t been kept in the kitchen, Jonas might have assumed they were head wear as well. He may or may not have also worn some upon his head in an attempt to “mimic human fashion”. Sidney always made a face about it. Jonas didn’t think it looked so bad. But that was beside the point.

The ship had become his second home. And Jonas did his best to make it more welcoming to him than his first.

The days spent there passed quickly, never lasting long enough to satisfy him. His free days were getting fewer and fewer. If he could, Jonas would spend every day learning and exploring, but he couldn’t completely shirk his chores and responsibilities. Fish needed to be caught, kelp needed to be harvested and reseeded, Sue needed help with preparing food, and watching over the younger children. 

Currently, Jonas was sat upon one of the giant clams that decorated the large sitting room in the entrance of the grotto they called home, humming a light and joyful tune that he heard a fiddler play, sharpening one of Dean’s spears before he had to go hunting again the next day. 

“Sammy, play nice.” Jonas gently reprimanded to the little purple tailed girl whose teeth had found another child’s arm. 

“But  _ Jonas _ ,” Sammy whined. “I’m a great white shark! And I’m hunting tuna!”

“ _ Tuna? _ !” the other child, a bright eyed and bright tailed girl, screeched, clearly much more offended at being compared to such a common fish than being physically bitten. “Why do I gotta be a  _ tuna? _ ”

“‘Cuz that’s what sharks  _ eat _ , doy!” Sammy said.

“But I wanna be a tiger shark! They can eat a—They’ll eat a whole ‘nother shark!” spoke the girl.

“Well I’m a giant squid then, and I’ll eat the tiger shark!” Sammy retorted. 

“Then  _ I’m _ ,” the other girl began, raising her arms and wiggling her fingers. “An evil  _ pirate _ . And I’m going to get you and cut you up!”

Jonas smirked, placing the now sharpened spear to the side, and rose from his seat. He loomed over the children with a twinkle of mischief alight in his eyes. “Oh, but you wouldn’t want to be a pirate in  _ these _ waters.” he said, using the same tone of voice he spoke in to tell the little ones stories before bed. “Because in  _ these _ waters, if an evil-hearted human takes the life of a creature of the sea, it summons The Leviathan…” Jonas brought up his hands, fingers extended like talons, and encircled the space over the children as if to prepare an attack. His voice dropped, and he spoke in a diabolical growl. “A giant, nasty monster who lives in the depths...and he’ll have her for _ dinner _ !” Jonas dove forward to scoop the girls into his grasp, but they squealed in a delighted terror, and swam away as fast as their fins would carry them. Jonas chuckled.

A tug on his hand had him looking down at one of his younger foster siblings. A small boy with frightened eyes and a few missing teeth. “Jona _ th _ ? I _ th _ there really a evil mon _ th _ ster in the bottom of the  _ th _ ea?” 

Jonas smiled softly. “Don’t worry, it’s just a story.” A human story, to be specific; he left that part out, though. “There’s no such thing as monsters, I promise.” Satisfied with his reassurance, the boy swam off in search of something to play with, and Jonas was left to finish up his work for the day. Until, that is, a voice from across the room got his attention.

“Ow! Stupid needle!” Sidney sat steaming in the corner as she sucked on her finger. In her other hand she held a single sea urchin spine, connected to a string of sea silk, attached to a sea shell bra with a broken strap. Jonas laughed.

“Still having trouble with that top?” 

Sidney groaned.

“I  _ hate _ sewing. Why is it  _ always _ sewing? Literally, give me anything else to do.” she said, pushing the broken garment off of her lap in frustration. Jonas swam over and caught it before it floated to the floor. 

“Come on, it’s not that bad.” he said. “It’s pretty easy, you just need to get used to it. Want some help?”

Sidney slouched in defeat. “Yes,  _ please _ , if I prick another finger I'll start attracting sharks.”

Jonas sat beside his sister and began the mending where she had left off. He had always done well with sewing. He did well with most house making tasks. Cooking, child care, cleaning. It all came pretty natural to him. He enjoyed being able to help Sue with these things, and his foster siblings were always a joy to take care of, save for occasional sea monkey business they’d get into. He and his sister were opposites in that regard. Sidney, while understanding the necessity of such tasks, took no pleasure in the day to day chores within the home. She was a far better hunter than Jonas could ever hope to be. She was knowledgeable concerning the many creatures of the sea, and could track and take down predators if she really needed to. Jonas admired her skills, but had no honest desire to make them his own, much to the reproof of their adoptive father, whose belief in traditional roles was still quite strong. And so, Sidney and Jonas found themselves more often than not switching responsibilities when they could, or at the very least, covering one another when they began to struggle. 

Jonas patiently explained once more the stitch he was making to his sister, whose half lidded, wandering eyes let him know that she wasn’t really taking any of it in. He jabbed her lightly in the ribs, and she stuck out her tongue to act like she had died. Clearly determined not to take anything seriously. 

A shadow was cast over the glowing stones in the grotto’s entryway as Dean returned home. The ever present grimace on his face was deeper than it usually was, and what used to be a fish trap in his grasp, torn and fishless, swayed its snapped rods against the dark blue of his scales. He swam forward, going deeper into the grotto, likely to look for Sue, but not before glancing to where Jonas and Sidney sat. The needle and thread still between Jonas’ clenched fingers. With a grunt of disapproval, he turned down the narrow tunnel that led to he and Sue’s section of the hollow, disappearing from view. Jonas loosened his shoulders, and handed the nearly mended item back to Sidney, who took it without a word. 

The rest of the evening passed by without incident. And it was only after Jonas finished herding his young foster siblings into their rooms that he heard the voice of Dean calling his name from the parlor. Jonas’ eyes flicked quickly over to Sidney, whose eyebrows were knit together in sisterly concern, conveying the message that whatever was happening, she’d be there for him. 

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Jonas made his way to where Dean was. 

The sun had already laid itself to rest under the blanket of the horizon, so it was only the ice-blue light from the resplendant stone fixtures surrounding the grotto that lit the way. The silhouette of his foster father could be seen in the entryway, facing away from him, illuminated by the cold glow against the otherwise black sea. A current swept through, brushing back Jonas’ hair. He fidgeted with his hands behind his back, waiting for a command or an accusation. 

He noticed that Dean held in one hand a lamp. The glowing blue light peeked out in brilliant rays through the cracks in its pale coral exterior. In his other hand he grasped the spear that Jonas had sharpened earlier. 

“This is the third time this week something has chewed through my traps.” Dean said suddenly, turning to Jonas with a disgruntled look. “A shark.” he continued, accusingly. Jonas felt another lump form in his throat. “Teeth marks are the same. Tears were at the same place as the previous nights. Probably took place at the same time each night too. Which  _ means _ …” he prompted Jonas, whose voice caught in his throat as he racked his brain for the right answer. 

“Uh—um…”

Dean sighed.

“It means it’s just  _ one _ of the damn things, and we need to take  _ care _ of it, or it’ll keep coming back.”

“Ah...yeah…” 

Dean motioned Jonas over with an impatient jerk of his hand. When Jonas was at his side, Dean pushed the spear into his hands. “And you’re going to do it. With all the time you’ve been out with your sister, this really shouldn’t be  _ too _ hard for you.”

Jonas felt a chill run through him. It had been such a reliable excuse. Sidney would relish in the joys of hunting, and Jonas would have the time to study his interests, returning with Sidney when she came back with a full net, convincing their foster parents that he had been with her the whole time, and, by extension, contributed to the capture of their meal. In truth, he had rarely experienced hunting like his sister had. With even the smallest fish, let alone a large predator. Jonas realized far too late that his lies to protect himself would be the thing that got him into trouble. 

Dean handed Jonas the lamp and gave him a suspicious look. Jonas worried at his bottom lip.

“You’re going to be doing this one on your own. Your sister has her own evening chores.”

Jonas blanched and took a deep breath. Even Sidney, with all of her skills, had never hunted in the dark before. Jonas felt like he just swallowed a rock. His stomach weighed down by some unidentifiable foreboding.

Something wasn’t right.

“Wouldn’t it be better to—um, better to track it down during the day?” Jonas stuttered, trying his hardest to shrink himself under the man’s callous stare. Dean didn’t hesitate in his response. It only happened at night, he said, and that now would be the best time to catch it in the act. Jonas felt his stomach twist at the deepening unease. 

Something wasn’t  _ right _ . But what could Jonas do? Say no to Dean? Because that would end well for him, he was sure. Instead of listening to his sinking insides, Jonas just grasped the spear and lamp in his hand tightly, nodding as Dean directed him to where their newest traps had been placed. He was then promptly dismissed, without the chance to even speak with Sidney before he was set off on his task. 

With one more glance at Dean, who floated in place with crossed arms in the entrance of their grotto, like some kind of blockade, Jonas swam out into the ink black waters. 

***

The fish trap was farther than Jonas would have liked it to be. About a thirty minute swim, if you weren’t moseying. But it wasn’t an easy task, to move quickly or confidently through the water when you could only see about an arm’s length in front of you. The endless shadow that was the sea at night swallowed Jonas in its vast emptiness.  _ No _ , thought Jonas,  _ not empty. _ He pushed onward. 

His eyes flickered at any and all movement. Flounders shivered under a layer of sand, crabs skittered away at the oncoming light, starfish moved just slower than Jonas himself on their search for food on the ocean floor. Jonas breathed in the salt water, trying to ease his nerves.  _ You’re the predator here _ , he reassured himself.  _ Everything out here is more afraid of you than you are of it. _ Jonas nodded at his self encouragement. He didn’t believe a word of it. 

At last, Jonas came upon a wide trench in the sea floor. One he recognized. If he were to take a right and follow the length of it, it wouldn’t be too long that he’d find himself on a path leading him directly to the cove. He couldn’t hazard a guess as to where the fissure began or where it ended, but he knew it could be no less than a few miles in length. And according to Dean, the traps were set just half a mile west of it. Not much farther now. 

Swimming past the trench, Jonas felt a chill come over him. He turned quickly to check behind him.

Nothing there. 

Shaking his head, Jonas chided himself. He was getting psyched out for no reason. He just needed to get to the traps so he could get this whole thing over and done with. 

Coming upon a flat seagrass meadow, Jonas paused and looked around. He squinted, trying to peer farther into the darkness than his sight would allow. On the edges of his vision stood an arching formation of stone and barnacles. And underneath it, three distinctly cone shaped objects.  _ Finally _ , thought Jonas, allowing his shoulders the smallest release of tension at his discovery. At least until the current swept his hair back, and Jonas remembered himself. 

He made his way over to the traps cautiously, inspecting them as he drew near. They  _ seemed _ to be intact. Empty, but intact. He set his lamp and spear down and picked up the cones of bound rods one by one, turning them over in his hands a few times, looking for signs of tampering. He came up empty. But that was a good thing, right? Maybe that meant he  _ wouldn’t _ have to try to kill something twice his size with rows of razor sharp teeth that ate seals for breakfast. 

Jonas put the last trap back in its place. He supposed he should wait a while to see if anything showed up. And so, swimming to the top of the arch where he made himself as comfortable as he could, he waited. He kept waiting as he tried to ignore the feeling of dread that creeped from his stomach into the back of his neck as he remained engulfed in the pitch blackness.

And he kept waiting. 

And kept waiting, until he yawned large enough to inhale a drifting piece of kelp, which he then proceeded to choke on and spit out, groaning loudly. 

Bringing his hands up, he rubbed away the jitters in his arms. Jonas avoided going out at night as much as he could. The sea was always so big and empty. So cold, and dark. The only thing worth going out for was a trip to the surface, where he could view the moon and the stars. He recalled one night, years ago, he had gone to view the full moon. A human ship had passed by. The ship drew him in with its bright, sunny glow. He much preferred the lighting used by humans. It felt warm. Alive. 

Jonas glanced upward, suddenly wishing to see the stars.

He couldn’t stay here.

Looking around one last time, Jonas determined that it wouldn’t do him any good to wait around in the dark any longer. He lifted his lamp ahead of him, the scales of some fish flashing in the distance as they dashed away from the light.  _ The traps will be fine, _ Jonas thought.  _ There isn’t even anything in them to steal. _

A quick trip to his hideout wouldn’t hurt. 

***

The old ship had weathered a lot over the years. From the perspective of anyone who hadn’t had the privilege of seeing the collection inside, the only word that could describe its appearance was... haunting. It was a ghost ship if there ever was one. The storms that would sometimes rage on land had caused the sails a suffering of tears, and only one of the masts was perfectly upright anymore. The golden lining that decorated the edges of the bow and stern had long lost its lustrousness, and the deck, once the host to a crew of human beings, now found itself only in the company of seaweed and the occasional, boisterous colony of seagulls.

And, of course, Jonas. Who now sat against the only stable mast in the center of the vessel, his tail brought up to his chest. Countless times he’d been here, reenacting in his mind what the atmosphere might have been like all those years ago. A patchwork collection of the humans he’d spied over the years superimposed upon his surroundings like ghosts, able to live in the mighty vessel’s once glorious days. He could almost hear the plodding of boots and the playing of “fiddles”. Could almost see the warm, flickering lights of their lamps like little pieces of the sun, keeping the ship alive and alight. These scenes in his mind always faded, however, and Jonas was forced back into the solitary, dark blue cold of silence and crashing waves. 

It had been a nice break, but he needed to be getting back. 

Jonas sighed, mourning the passing of time as he took one last long look at the twinkling stars above. He began his descent down the stairs carefully, lamp in his hand rattling as he hopped down into the lower levels. He maneuvered his way back into the hull and dove head first into the water with a splash. He was about to make his way out of his hideaway and into the open waters, when the sight of a familiar silhouette blocking the only exit made him freeze. Jonas could feel the blood drain from his face as a chill like death seized his heart. His voice caught in his throat, and he began to tremble. 

Dean swam forward into the light, a look of pure hatred on his face. Jonas knew what was coming. And he knew nothing he did now could prevent it. 

***

Jonas sniffed.

He couldn’t believe how stupid he’d been. Of _ course _ it was a lie. A setup to confirm Dean’s suspicions about what he did when he left home in such an excited hurry. Where he wandered off to when he could have been living up to Dean’s expectations. He was such an idiot. This whole situation was the real fish trap, and Jonas had swam right into it, playing right into what his foster father suspected he would do. 

He led him right to his greatest treasure. And now it was gone. Lost to the bottomless trench he passed just a few hours earlier. Years of his passion torn away from him all in one night. 

Just when he thought he was too empty to cry anymore, Jonas felt his stomach lurch and his eyes burn. Drops of salt water fell onto the rock he perched himself on. He swiped a hand over his face, but winced when he brushed his swollen cheek. He couldn’t stand to enter the ship anymore. He couldn’t handle seeing how barren it was now. 

If there was any solace Jonas could take, it was in the form of a single locket which he was able to hide away at the last minute. He thumbed over the image of the whale softly, as though he was afraid that any more pressure would break it. He closed his hand around it carefully and held it to his chest. He sniffed again. 

The sound of something breaking the water to his right made him tense. Had Dean come back to collect him already? To tell him to stop moping and get home? His muscles ached from the stress of tensing so much, but the adrenaline running through him made it so he couldn’t care. He simply waited for him to speak, too frozen from fear to do anything else. But it wasn’t Dean’s harsh voice that greeted him, but one of a woman, soft and warm. 

“Oh my...are you alright, sweetheart?”

When Jonas turned to face the voice’s owner, however, he blanched.

An honest to god half shark, half woman stared back at him from just below his position on the rock, much too close for comfort for Jonas. He leaned back instinctively, something in him expecting her to take a bite out of him, making him nearly topple over. The woman cackled at his jumpiness, revealing large, razor sharp teeth. It did nothing to help Jonas’ anxiety. 

“Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna  _ eat _ ya.” She said with a wink. “I already had dinner.” Jonas gaped, and she cackled again.

She hoisted herself up so that she sat beside him. The markings on her arms extended to her tail. Like a tiger shark, Jonas noticed. She asked his name, and in his shock, he told her. She returned the favor.

“Now,” Henrietta continued, her tone becoming concerned once more. “Why don’t you tell this ol’ woman what’s eatin’ ya?”

Jonas made a face, unsure if she was even aware of the wording she was using, or if she just enjoyed teasing him. Maybe he should have considered it a warning, but with how he was feeling, if some hungry scavenger wanted to make a meal out of Jonas, he’d probably let them. At least this one was willing to listen to his sob story first. 

He couldn’t stop it. The second he opened his mouth, it all just spilled out of him. His preoccupation with the human world, his collection he had spent years setting up and learning about, how it was all ripped away from him in the blink of an eye, and how he knew he couldn’t do anything about it. And even though it was impossible, if he could spend even one day on land, free from the oppressive rule of Dean and the cold grasp of the briny sea, he’d be okay with it all. Something in Henrietta’s expression changed as he told her this, and Jonas couldn’t determine if that proved good or bad. Nevertheless, and to Jonas’ complete shock, she wrapped her arms around him in a motherly fashion, and stroked his hair. Something in him melted at the kindness of this strange woman. He had known her for a few minutes, but already she had shown him a kind of softness that not even Sue held for him. 

“You poor thing.” She said, pulling away to hold his face in her hands. Her nails were almost as sharp as her teeth, but her touch was the gentlest he’d ever known. “Now don’t you cry no more, puffin.” she continued. “When you’re feelin’ as low as this the only place you can go is up, you hear me?” She smiled at him, and Jonas got a good look at her eyes. They were sparkling with warmth. They were soft. And amber.

_ Familiar. _

Jonas furrowed his brow. 

“I— have we...met?”

The woman shook her head. “Oh no, I would have remembered such a cute face.” She said, pinching his cheek playfully. Jonas laughed, confused as ever. The woman patted his face and pulled away from him. “But even so, you really remind me of someone.” she said, wistfulness on her features. “I was just like you, ya know.”

Jonas blinked, intrigued. 

“It’s sort of why I’m here, actually.” She said, turning her attention to the shipwreck on the other end of the beach. “I’ve...lost someone. Someone on land. And I’d do anything to find him again. I just need…”

Jonas waited for her to continue, but she just shook her head. “Sounds like it’s all cleared out now.” she said, something solemn underlying her words. 

Jonas had no clue what she was talking about, but he figured it was best not to pry. He simply nodded and apologized. Henrietta’s expression hardened into something between delegation and determination. Like she was trying to sort something out in her head. She glanced at the ship, back to Jonas, up to the nearly-full moon, and back to Jonas again. He was starting to feel like he was being sized up. He jumped when the woman before him dramatically brought her hands together with a wet smack. 

“Well! It ain’t all for nothin’!” She practically shouted. “I can at least help you.”

Jonas was  _ so _ tired of being confused today. 

“Um,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” 

Henrietta smiled, baring her teeth. Jonas gulped.

Without warning, she jumped into the water, and began to swim away. Jonas hurried to follow her, calling out for her to wait for him. He was worried he wouldn’t be able to find her in the darkness, but when he went under, the woman, who had been carrying nothing on her person, had somehow gotten a hold of a light source. He couldn’t see what she held, as she cradled it gently in her hands, but whatever it was shone with rays of gold like the summer sun, lighting up the sea around them like a protective bubble. 

It was beautiful.

What the _ heck _ was it and where did it come from?

“Where are we going?” was the question he actually managed to ask. Too bewildered to say anything else. He was beginning to wonder if it was wise to follow shark women with mysterious lights into unknown places in the middle of the night. His infamous curiosity silenced his doubts, however, and pushed him forward.

“Back to my little corner of the sea.” said Henrietta as Jonas swam up beside her. “At this point, angelfish, it looks like there’s only one option left for ya.”

Jonas looked around nervously, trying to gauge the exact direction they were headed. “And what’s that?” he asked. Henrietta’s grip on whatever she was holding loosened, and Jonas could finally get a look at it. Turns out she wasn’t holding anything so much as she was containing it. A flicker, like the little fires from human lamps, floated between her palms. It danced around as it beat like a pulse. It was unlike anything Jonas had seen before. It was as though it wasn’t of the natural world. 

As though it were magic.

Henrietta laughed cheerfully. The sound of her joy as brilliant as the otherworldly flame that danced in her hands.

“Become a human yourself, of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Henrietta is the best character in this story sorry


	4. Poor Unfortunate Soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just wanna say genuinely thank u all sm who read and comment on this story my tears could really fill the sea y'all don't even kno i'm cryin rn actually
> 
> also i'm taking like a 3 day break so next update will be on the 28th or 29th
> 
> thank u again seriously ur love inspires me sm

Henrietta was no fool. 

She was aware that going out of her way to find the rocky beach where Quicksilver had been thrown was most likely a fruitless endeavor. Perhaps even a waste of time that she could not afford. Not because she wouldn’t be able to find it again, as she eventually did, but because even when she did, any passing looters with the ability to tread water would have likely left not even crumbs for her to sort through. So it surprised her greatly to learn that there had been virtually no human contact, and the ship and its storage had been left intact. 

And what’s more, built upon. 

The young man, who couldn’t have been far in age from her own son, had made, in essence, a museum. And he, from what she could discern, had done everything in his power to safeguard it. 

But not even a beautiful collection can last forever.

It was downright rotten timing, she wasn’t going to deny that. And she ached at how close she had been to possibly finding the last ingredient for her spell. A risky spell, one that she might not survive should she make a mistake, but one that she was willing to put everything on the line for. 

Being human again was the best chance she had at returning to her son.

With thinning hope, Henrietta surmised that she wouldn’t be seeing the face of her child again anytime soon. Not with Quicksilver having been stripped of all their possessions, and therefore, of any potential spell ingredients.

Even so, the amount of care Jonas had taken with the whole thing had touched her heart more than he could ever know. And even if she couldn’t complete what she originally set out to do, she hoped she could help the young man who had made it nearly possible. 

Even if said young man was laughing nervously and looking at her as though she had grown a second head. She expected nothing less. Merfolk nowadays liked to tell their children that witches and magic were tall tales. Incidentally, it was the same way humans talked about merpeople. 

“Sorry,” he said. “I just...for a second I thought you were being serious.” He laughed again, clearly uncomfortable, the poor thing. Henrietta kept her eyes trained on Jonas as they came to a stop in front of a small underwater den. The entrance was only wide enough to fit one person at a time, and the inside was unable to be seen in the pitch black. She smiled at him and lifted up the pulsing flame in one hand. With her other, she snapped her fingers, and a row of coral lanterns which lined the walls flickered to life, lighting up a short tunnel. Henrietta said nothing as she swam inside. With some hesitation and a look between uncertainty and awe, Jonas followed. He moved at a snail’s pace, and Henrietta had to usher him in the rest of the way, where the tunnel opened up into a modest, but relatively spacious cavern. 

She had found the den only a few days ago. Her journey across the sea leaving her in desperate need to find a good place to call home, even if only temporarily. Though, with how things were playing out, she’d probably be here for the foreseeable future. She only had the time to put in some lights, and so it wasn’t extravagant by any means, but that was just fine with her. She lived humbly all her life, and had no true desire for luxury. For what was luxury when you had clams? 

A giant clam, old and covered in barnacles, sat in the dead center of the den. It was shut tight, and save for its size, was altogether unimpressive. But like most things in life, its outer appearance was no indication of what it held inside. Henrietta took a seat next to it, and waved Jonas over, where he did the same opposite her. She offered him something to eat, which he, after glancing at a stack of recently killed fish in the corner, politely declined. Henrietta shrugged and knocked on the clam. With a few clicks it opened like a yawn. Henrietta transferred the flame in her hand into the clam's open mouth, where it then appeared to melt until it filled the shell with a swirling, golden pool. Jonas seemed hypnotized by that alone, mouth agape and eyes wide as he stared unblinkingly. He had questions, she could tell, so she placed her hands in her lap and offered him an amiable smile. He looked between her and her shell a few times before being able to find his words. 

“Are…” he began, hesitantly. “Are you, uh…” 

Henrietta narrowed her eyes and leaned forward. Jonas leaned back. “You accusing me of being a witch, young man?” Jonas squeaked.

“No! I’m not I just—”

Henrietta cackled, interrupting him. 

“Well, you’d be right!” she said. Jonas just blinked at her. “Magic’s just a talent of mine, what can I say.” She waved a hand over the golden pool of light, which mimicked her motion as it tickled her fingers. She twirled the light with a pointed nail and raised her hand steadily, the golden glow molding into a different shape until it looked like a little Jonas, swimming around in circles in the shell. Jonas’ eyes lit up and he moved his hand toward it, a smile growing on his own face as the little golden replica took a seat on his finger. The crease in his brow that he had been sustaining all that night finally faded away completely. 

“That’s amazing…” he said, just above a whisper. He watched as the Jonas-shaped light swam away from his hand and moved languidly around the room. “How do you do that?” Henrietta just gave Jonas a sly wink, laughing as he shook his head in disbelief. 

“But,” Jonas continued. “Can you really do it? Make me, um.” 

Henrietta gave a long  _ mhmm,  _ and Jonas bit his lip in thought. She motioned to the light, and it swam back over to her, floating calmly in the shell’s center. She passed her hands slowly around it, and when she brought them away, the replica was still Jonas, only instead of the tail, he sported two legs. Jonas’ eyes blew open as the little human image of him started walking around. He looked up at Henrietta as she spoke again. “If it’s something you want bad enough, angelfish, I can help you.”

Jonas looked back to the light, and reached out to hold it in his hands. The look he gave to it made her heart ache. 

“You were human once, weren’t you?” 

The question took her aback, but only for a moment. She nodded. 

“And you said earlier you were looking for someone on the land.” he continued. He seemed to be struggling to get his thoughts out. “So if this is something you can do, why haven’t you just made yourself human again?” He didn’t ask the question accusingly. She could tell from the tone in his voice that he believed what she told him. He primarily sounded confused. She didn’t blame him. The fact of the matter was that as helpful as magic was, and as much as it could do, it always carried with it a price and a risk. Especially for magic with such a dramatic change. She let him know this.

“What kind of price?” Jonas said, sounding nervous again. Henrietta got up to retrieve a sack from the corner of the room, fishing out an empty bottle, some fish bones, and the tentacle of a jellyfish.

“Magic is easier for us than those on land.” said Henrietta. She threw the bones and the tentacle into the shell. The light shaped like jonas morphed back into the golden pool, circling the items therein. “It’s somethin’ in our blood. Some say it’s ‘cause we have greater wisdom, but I think those folk are a lil’ too high up on their seahorses, hah!” She swam up to the ceiling, and picked off a starfish that was stuck to it. “Others say its ‘cause we got more brine in our blood. I say we got the same blood as most other things.” In went the starfish. “But there is something that connects us. Something that runs deep, and calls out to the hearts of even the most strong willed men.” She swam over to Jonas, and put a hand on his head, brushing through his hair in a motherly fashion before plucking a hair. Jonas yelped and rubbed his scalp.

Henrietta knew the price of being human. And the risks if this boy really did want to go through with it. It could be worth it, but she had to make sure he understood exactly what was going to happen, and what he needed to do if he wanted to stay safe. 

“I’m gonna make you up a potion that will allow you to be human by removing the thing that connects you to the sea in the first place.” 

Jonas raised an eyebrow.

“What’s that?”

Henrietta let the hair drop into the shell. As it touched the other ingredient, it triggered the swirling lights to spark and billow like smoke. Sounds of whispers started emanating from golden dust. Then a cacophony of sentences. Then Laughter. Cries. Humming. Singing. Jonas reeled back as the sounds grew louder. Henrietta suspected it was because it sounded familiar to him. As it should. It  _ was _ him. 

The smoke like substance pulled itself through the water and into the jar that Henrietta held in her hands. She capped the jar quickly, silencing the sounds, and brought her attention back to Jonas. She smiled, and bared her teeth.

“Your voice.”

***

Sometimes Jonas wondered if he always made the best choices. 

Talking about life changing decisions was much easier than actually going through with them. Not that Jonas was backing out. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he had passed up an opportunity like this. But this was going well outside of his comfort zone, and he genuinely wasn’t sure what kind of experience he was about to have, if the potion worked like he was told it would. The excitement and hope was still there, but with a heaping helping of anxiety mixed in. 

The morning had brought with it a golden sun, which sat just over the horizon. The rays shone upon Jonas and Sidney where they sat in the shallow waves. Jonas looked over the bottle in his hand as he played with the locket around his neck

Sidney had been against it at first, being the practical and more reasonably suspicious one between the two of them. Jonas knew that, in truth, she was against it still. But for the sake of Jonas’ happiness, she’d conceded. And now she was there with him, hand on his shoulder, letting him know that she’d be there for him no matter what happened.

He couldn’t deliberate on it any longer. Looking to his sister one last time for comfort, Jonas pushed past his hesitation. “Well,” he said. “Here goes nothing.”

The bottle popped open with a gasp, and Jonas could swear he could hear his own humming from the inside. He swallowed his fear and the potion in a swift gulp, and immediately made the most sour face he’d ever made in his life. 

“Oh, good  _ Poseidon _ , that,” he coughed and made a noise like he might throw up. “That is  _ rancid _ . Oh my  _ god _ .” Sidney laughed at his discomfort.

“Actually, this was a good idea. I should trick you into eating gross things too.” she said. Jonas rolled his eyes. He was about to make a comment, when his throat restricted, and he began coughing again. Only this time, it wasn’t from the sour taste of the potion. He felt like there was a rock in his throat that was growing in size, and he leaned forward, instinctively trying to dislodge it. Sidney’s shit eating grin morphed into a look of concern, and she reached out to him. 

“Jonas!” 

Something inside his throat started glowing bright enough to shine through his skin, and Sidney watched in a terrified amazement as it traveled upward, finally reaching Jonas’ mouth, where he reached in to remove it.

What he removed was no rock, however, but what looked like a perfectly spherical, golden pearl. They both peered at it, Sidney in suspicion, and Jonas in fascination, as he held it between his thumb and forefinger. It was solid, but transparent. The inside appeared to swirl around itself, as though it were made of tiny waves. 

“What is that, Jojo?”

Jonas opened his mouth. His heart thudding in his chest when nothing came out. He brought a hand up to his throat, where he felt the pearl first form. 

_ Protect it. Keep it close. Keep it hidden.  _

The voice of the witch echoed in his mind, and he quickly opened the locket he wore to place the pearl inside. A perfect fit.

He was starting to feel numb. And tingly. 

“Jonas…” Sidney said, her mouth agape. She was looking him over with an expression of uncertainty that was unfamiliar on her. Jonas’ head spun, and he closed his eyes, trying to ride out the dizziness. 

Slowly, his vertigo faded, and the tingling stopped. He could feel his body again. He could feel the  _ changes  _ in his body. His eyes snapped open, and as he looked down at himself, tears pricked in the corners of his vision. A smile wider than the ocean itself took over his face. He brought his attention back to his sister, conveying to her his delight with the gleam in his eyes. She looked dumbstruck.

“Holy  _ shit _ .”

***

Sidney had gone to the shipwreck to look for any remaining human clothes while Jonas practiced using his land legs. It was so much harder to simply stand than he ever imagined it would be. He shook like a jellyfish as he tried and failed to maintain his balance. When he did finally gain a semblance of steadiness, he was at a loss for how to move forward. He was miffed at how strong the urge was to use both fins—oh, feet, rather—at once was, but he learned to resist it, taking it one step at a time. He placed one single, strong foot forward. Chest out, and head held high.

He immediately fell back into the water. 

“Okay,” said Sidney after she swam back to him. “This was all I could find. I hope it’s enough.” 

Jonas grabbed the torn trousers from his sister, who turned away as he struggled to put them on. They were baggy, but better than nothing. One other...fascinating note Jonas had gained was that humans really just had it all hanging out.  _ So that’s what pants are for _ , Jonas thought with only a minor lingering embarrassment. 

The sun rose higher in the sky as Jonas improved on using his newfound limbs. He walked around the beach excitedly, wiggling his toes in the sand and laughing in quiet puffs. Sidney looked on with a disconnected expression, muttering under her breath about how the spell actually worked. Jonas eventually returned to her in the water and tried to convey his thoughts to her the best he could. Sidney sighed.

“Okay, okay so,” she began. “I know you’re going to go explore but, come back before too late?”

Jonas nodded to her assuredly. They had already talked about it. Jonas would spend a day on land, and then come back.  _ Break the pearl, break the spell _ , the witch had said. He could return whenever he wanted. 

He didn’t know what lay beyond the cliffside, but the call was too strong to ignore. His sister was loath to let him go, but after promising her at least a dozen times that he’d be back that evening, Jonas managed to peel himself away and begin climbing a less steep section of the cliff. When he reached the top, he looked out to the sea below, and waved one last time to Sidney who watched from the shore. With a deep breath in to steady himself, Jonas began slowly stumbling through the forest, toward civilization. 

***

It had been too long since the crew had known the taste of real food. They needed to replenish their supplies. Their recent “business” had reaped a particularly high reward, and so naturally, they had desire to spend it. They wanted fresh fruits, warm bread, and hearty meats. They needed rum. They were ready to kill for a real bed. Readier still to throw themselves to the cruel sea out of the madness achieved of months of sleeping in old, dirty hammocks. One of them did, actually, if Scratch recalled correctly. 

Wait, no, he was thrown off. Poor Flatulent Frank. He never had a chance. 

Having been properly shaken up by the captain about staying ashore for too long, however, the remaining crew traded their dream of restful sleep for that of their superior’s favor. And so, most of them remained with the ship to mend the sails and swab the deck, while a select few were sent out to gather necessary supplies. 

It was an odd feeling, stepping back into Sellwood after so many years away from it, but Scratch found she remembered the streets like the back of her hand. She stuck out her hands to scan them. Yep. Definitely remembered those. 

She had made quick work of acquiring the food they needed, making the multiple trips necessary between the town and where their ship was docked. She was the fastest amongst all of them, and had finished with her list when the sun was only midway through the sky. Her endless supply of energy coming in handy at times such as these. She bounced through the town, still staring at the backs of her hands, as though she would see something different if she remained unblinking long enough. Her lack of attention to what was directly in front of her, however, came back to meet her, and she slammed hard into somebody, causing both of them to fall straight on their asses. She shot back up like an arrow, and took in the person she had just collided with. 

“Wow!” she said excitedly. “You look terrible!”

Without giving him a chance to respond, Scratch lifted the boy up by his arm with a heave. When she pulled away, he wobbled and nearly fell right back down. He looked disoriented. And what was left of his pants were soaked. Putting two and two together, Scratch lit up.

“You washed up from a shipwreck!” she shouted. The boy said nothing, and only after a few moments of silence, he slowly nodded. “Great!” Scratch said. The boy looked almost offended. “We’re short a crew member ‘cuz of a smelly situation. You know the sea, right? Interested?”

The boy blinked at her.

“I’ll take your silence as a resounding yes!” Scratch said while grabbing him by the arm and leading him away. “Come on I’ll show you the ship and the captain—oh yeah we don’t know how he is gonna react but whatever he’ll be fine—and we’re gonna find you pants and ya know it’s a good thing I found ya because ol’ Frankie was our boatswain and we haven’t found another yet are you a boatswain or do you wanna be because we need to—”

A tug of resistance pulled her to a stop, and she looked back to see the boy fearfully shaking his head, still not uttering a word. 

“Whatsa’ matter, dotty?” she asked. “Don’t worry, ya won’t have to do anything too hard first few days. Gotta get ya all settled in!”

Movement in the distance caused Scratch to look away from the disgruntled face of the young man before her. A familiar figure was stopped dead in the middle of the street. They had noticed one another at the same time, their eyes locking. Scratch looked back to the boy still in her grasp and smiled like a madwoman. 

“We have to leave now or we’ll die!”

***

Whiplash was a hell of an experience. 

Jonas had been enjoying his first few minutes in the human town. There was so much commotion, with people walking to and fro, carrying baskets of food and cloth, riding the big creatures he believed were called landhorses. He supposed he could see a resemblance to seahorses there. The smells around him were a whole new pleasure. Sweet scents tickled his nose, and he itched to find their source. The sun was warm, and despite the odd looks people gave him, Jonas was happy.

And it all lasted about seven minutes.

The woman who was now dragging him quickly along had come in like a hurricane. Her short but wild hair was the color of kelp, and she wore white and red stripes and casual slacks with worn holes in the knees. She smiled disturblingly and looked at him with wide, almost unblinking eyes. 

In other words, she looked insane. 

And if he wasn’t mistaken, she was quite literally shaking from excitement.

She was definitely, undoubtedly insane. And talking about how they were going to be killed. So now, Jonas was running. 

Seven minutes.

Sidney was never going to let him live this down. 

His legs burned from the exertion, and more than anything he wanted to stop, but when he craned his neck to look behind him, he found that they weren’t running from some kind of hallucination of the crazed woman who held his wrist in her grip. Someone was actually chasing them. A man, who couldn’t be older than Jonas was, was running after them. He was dressed finely, with an embroidered blue waistcoat that flapped behind him, and an impressive, black and gold hat. His face was twisted in rage, and he spat at them to stop. 

The woman twisted down a long alleyway, and when they came to the other side, he realized they were leaving the town and heading toward the woods where he had come from. Jonas’ stomach lurched when he understood that they were heading back to the sea. 

The angry yells of the man faded, but the woman still zipped them through the woods like a fat seal who just saw a great white. Eventually, they passed the edge of the forest, continuing to run until they arrived upon a beach. Something in Jonas almost expected them to show up at the cove. Probably because it was the only part of the shoreline he was familiar with. But lo and behold, the ship that sat upon this beach was fully intact, and currently having its side cleaned of barnacles. He didn’t have time to take any of it in as his feet, all too soon, touched salt water again.

“Get her back in the water!” the crazy woman shouted, drawing the attention of the crew before them. “Beckham’s comin’!” 

Something about that had the humans scrambling to push the vessel deeper into the sea. He was led quickly up a wooden ramp, pulled across the deck, and hurried down a short flight of steps, into a room where cots were lined up, attached to the side of the hull. The woman finally let go, and Jonas rubbed his wrist. She shot across the room and shuffled around in some barrels. Jonas would have ran, if he wasn’t in shock and unsure of what to do or where to run to. 

Out of one of the barrels, the woman pulled out an intact pair of pants, along with a dirty white tunic. She returned to him, and pushed the items into his hands. 

“Look presentable dotty! Captain’s gonna want to know all about ya!”

With that, the crazy woman left, and Jonas was left by himself in the sleeping quarters of the ship. 

Oh no. Absolutely not. He was not going to be whisked away like this. He was leaving.

Right after he put on the clothes the human had given him. 

He tried to change quickly, so that he could leave faster, but he had surprising difficulty with the long, hanging sleeves of the tunic. Once he was no longer bared, he tucked his locket into his shirt and pulled the strings tighter around his shoulders. 

Keep it hidden. Keep it safe.

Jonas sighed, and went to sneak away, when something he hadn’t noticed before flapped its wings on a nearby cot. 

It was a….bird? Maybe? Strangely, Jonas couldn’t tell. It certainly wasn’t any sea bird that Jonas knew of. It was gray and it’s feathers stuck out wildly. It almost looked like it had quills sticking out of its wings as well, but Jonas couldn’t be sure in the dim light. It and Jonas regarded one another for a moment. It clicked its gray beak and tilted his head. Jonas tilted back.

A loud bang from the deck above, like someone slamming open a door, made him jump out of his skin. 

“Why the hell are we raisin’ anchor!?” A deep, gruff, voice spat, muffled by the boards between them. “I didn’t give that order!”

The voice made the bird—or whatever it was—squawk and flap excitedly. It flew up the stairs to where the voice had shouted. And Jonas dared to follow it, creeping up the steps and peeking his head out just enough to see what was happening. Everyone was turned toward someone wearing a long, tattered brown coat. His black boots shook the planks as he stalked across the deck like a predator, moving to the bow. Jonas swallowed. He watched as the bird thing swooped over the man’s head, and landed on his shoulder. He was turned away from him, so he couldn’t make out any discerning features apart from what he wore. On his head slouched a black hat, not dissimilar to the one the angry man chasing them had worn, only this one was much less sophisticated. It looked as ratty and torn as the rest of his attire. But it was clear that his disheveled nature had no impact on the respect he commanded amongst the ship. Everyone was silent, and standing to attention.

The woman from before bounded up to the daunting figure, speaking words he couldn’t hear. They spoke with one another in voices outside of Jonas’ hearing range, and he took the opportunity to quietly creep above board. He froze when the man motioned something to the crew. 

“Alright ya jelly-boned fucks! Harden in and harden up, I want her behind the waves five fuckin’ minutes ago!”

Jonas tensed as the crew around him clamored about, preparing the ship to go out to sea.

Out to sea. With Jonas still on board. With a burst of confidence and determination, Jonas began to walk across the deck, toward the man who was obviously in control of this ship. Maybe he would be reasonable. Or, if he wasn’t, maybe he’d at least kill him quickly, and he wouldn’t have to go through more than he already had these past couple of days. Jonas stopped half way when, trying to think of what he would say to him, he remembered one little, but very important detail. 

If he could groan, he would. 

The necklace was warm against his chest. Reminding him he had at least one way out. Jonas’ face went stony, and he took a deep breath. He’d take his chances with the murderous sea captain. 

The ship rocked and turned suddenly, and Jonas realized how much further out on the water they were getting. The belly of the sails swelled with air, and he turned to see the crazy green-haired woman at the wheel. Of course she was steering. 

Past the hidden face of the captain, back on the beach, Jonas watched as the angry man from before emerged from the distance. Only this time, he was backed by dozens of other men, with strange looking weapons. He looked as enraged as ever, and, clearly upset that he hadn’t made it in time, grabbed his hat and threw it to the ground. 

“You’ll be hanged, you hear me!” he shouted, eyes bulging. “Dirty, fucking  _ pirates _ !”

If Jonas was feeling anywhere near brave before, he certainly wasn’t now. His face turned ghostly white, and his stomach dropped. He glanced around the ship until his eyes fell upon a black flag, picturing a skull and two crossing swords.

Oh no.

Oh  _ no. _

Just as Jonas was wondering why he had to die this way, the captain turned around. And it was with no little shock that he was met with an almost identical version of the witch who brought him here in the first place. He had the same shaped face, though with a stronger jaw and some facial hair. Same nose, and even the same eyebrows. But it was his eyes that threw Jonas for the biggest loop. He reached up to grasp at the necklace hidden beneath his tunic as his mouth fell open, and he thought his heart might genuinely stop. On the creaking ship, amongst the boisterous clatter of a pirate crew, Mitch stared back at him, his expression hard and unyielding. His cheeks red with anger. But his eyes the same as ever. 

Warm amber.

New legs suddenly unable to handle standing for another second, Jonas hit the deck. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess ur a pirate now jonas i'm sure this won't have any negative consequences on ur future you'll be fine


	5. Haul Away Jo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOOM I FINISHED EARLY HAPPY NATIONAL SEAFARERS DAY AIN'T THAT SOMETHIN
> 
> the title of this chapter is an actual shanty and if u wanna hear it i highly suggest the version done by The Longest Johns...just feels right...
> 
> anyway this was an extremely fun chapter to write, i've been excited for this one for a while so pls...pls enjoy...my gift to u...

It had come to Mitch’s attention that what he needed the most right now was to be piss drunk. 

Every time he turned around it seemed like he was facing another setback, and it was really beginning to grate on his nerves. From losing their map, to getting turned around in the recent storm, to needing to stop back in _Sellwood_ of all places to restock on supplies, and now, needing to get as far away from Neil as possible before he decided to send a fleet after them, it was safe to say that his only consolation that day was going to be a belly full of rum alone in his cabin. 

Mitch’s expression was callous as he glared at the shrinking image of an enraged Neil. The man was a particularly annoying thorn in his side. And while normally he’d be willing to ready the cannons and cost the asshole another ship, Mitch didn’t have that kind of time right now. He had some personal business to attend to. Places to be, people to see. People who might not _be_ at those places if he kept getting held up. He huffed, a resolute feeling overcoming him. If one more unexpected thing got in his path, he was going to kill. The briny winds picked up, and Bud, who had been sitting with relative quiet upon his shoulder, flapped against it. Mitch scratched under his chin, and his feathery companion clicked his beak contentedly before deciding he’d rather go find something else to occupy his little bird brain with. Mitch decided it would be best to do the same.

Upon turning around, however, Mitch immediately set his eyes on something unexpected in his path. 

And for a moment, he wasn’t angry. The unwelcome guest in his line of sight stared at him with wide eyes, and clutched the fabric of his shirt in surprise, as though it was Mitch who was the one out of place here. Mitch stared back, unblinking. Amongst the ship’s commotion, they were both stock still. The sounds of the clattering crew and flapping sails like white noise in the background, and the only thought running through Mitch’s mind was that the freckled stranger in front of him was, actually, kind of pretty. 

When the boy’s legs gave out, Mitch snapped out of his daze, and something dark bubbled up inside of him. A growl of frustration rumbled in the back of his throat, and he stalked over to the stranger. A look of terror found itself on the boy’s face as Mitch lifted him fully off the ground by the front of his tunic, bringing him equal to his eye level. His hands grasped Mitch’s wrist, and when he looked up at him in fear, Mitch’s stomach flipped. 

He amended his previous thought. The stranger before him was, actually, _very_ pretty. Mitch’s face reddened from more than anger, and he scowled. 

“And just what the _hell_ are you doing on my ship?” he spat. The boy floundered, and Mitch growled again. “You a fuckin’ stowaway?” The boy shook his head violently, mouthing _no_ repeatedly. “Well then?” Mitch continued. “Who the fuck are you and why are you here?”

The boy mouthed something, but no sound came out. He snapped his mouth and eyes shut. He almost looked like he could cry. _Shit_ , thought Mitch as he realized the nature of the boy’s predicament. His expression softened slightly. Putting him back down on his feet, the boy shook, but remained upright. When he opened his eyes again, Mitch acted accordingly. Bringing his hand up, he moved it as he spoke.

“Who...” He touched his thumb to his chin and bent his forefinger.

“...are you?” He pointed to him.

“And why…” He swiped his fingers down the front of his head.

“Are you here?” He pointed to him again, and then opened both hands, palms up, and circled them around.

The boy blinked and looked quickly between him and his hands, pure confusion written on his face. Mitch deflated, brow furrowing further. 

“Oy! Cap’n!” a shrill voice from above called out. Mitch looked to his helmsman at the wheel, who was waving her arm excitedly to him. “Ya found him!”

Turning his attention back to the boy, he pointed to Scratch.

“She bring you?” 

The stranger nodded, a tired look on his face. Mitch wanted to slam his head against a mast. Of course. Of fucking course it was Scratch. 

Grabbing the boy by the arm, Mitch led him up the stairs—slower than he would like, as the kid kept tripping over his own feet—and approached Scratch. He slammed his fist against the base of the helm, and towered over the woman, who nevertheless maintained her perky disposition. 

“Fuckin’ _hell_ Scratch, I’ve told ya before, talk to me _before_ going out and enlisting random fuckin’ people!”

Scratch just smiled calmly at him. “Uh, doy, that’s why I brought him back!” Mitch felt his eye twitch.

“He can’t _speak._ Don’t think he can sign neither. Ya didn’t even wait for him to say nothin’?”

“Oh, you know what,” Scratch said in an airy voice. “That actually explains a lot.” 

Mitch pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled sharply. “Jesus fuckin’—okay, alright, look.” Turning back to the stranger he still held fast in his grip, Mitch noticed he no longer looked scared as much as he did annoyed. 

It was adorable. 

“Me and my crew gotta lay low for a while. We’ll take ya back in a few weeks, got it?”

The boy jerked his arm out of his grasp suddenly and shook his head. With a firm stance he pointed down as he stomped his foot, clearly feeling a sense of urgency to return to the town. He was probably trying to look intimidating, but it only made Mitch’s mouth twitch upward. The boy crossed his arms and glared at him. 

“Ooo! Spunky!” said Scratch.

Mitch smirked. “No can do, Spots.” The boy rolled his eyes. “Ya see,” Mitch drawled, looming over the boy with a dangerous look. “This here ain’t a pleasure cruise. Going back to Sellwood now is suicide. _And_ I’m behind schedule. And anyone that makes me later than I already am, I’ll bring them to Davy Jones locker myself.”

The boy recoiled as Mitch’s expression darkened above him, and his eyes flickered over to Scratch, who drew a finger across her neck while making a slicing sound. The boy swallowed. 

“So I’m sorry to have to tell ya, but yer not leavin’ this ship for a while. So get comfy.”

With that, Mitch pat the boy’s freckled face, pretending not to enjoy its softness on his fingers, or the disappointment that bloomed in his belly when the other boy flinched at his touch. Mitch turned to overlook the crew, and scanned his men until he found who he was looking for. 

“Javier! Get up here!” 

***

Jonas was flooded with conflicting emotions. Things were happening so fast that he didn’t have time to process what he was feeling before the next wave hit. Seeing Mitch again after so many years made him nostalgic and warm. Seeing him look like he was going to gut him terrified him. Knowing that he was not only _part_ of a pirate ship, but the _leader_ of said ship, only helped to solidify his worries. But as he took Mitch in, there was something else. Something more complex than happiness or fear. Something he couldn’t fully explain. Something...disturbing? No, no, not quite. More like...something that made him sad. Underneath the flurry of changing emotions, Jonas felt something ache. The situation at hand left him little room to explore the emotional tsunami happening inside of him, and so, just for now, Jonas chose to ignore the way his heart panged. Focusing instead on how he was stuck here. On what he was supposed to do now. On how Sidney was going to react. And, of course, how tired he was of being dragged around. 

Seriously. His arm was starting to get sore. 

As Mitch barked out an order to his crew, Jonas reminded himself that he did have one, and only one, way out. And he supposed it would be best for him to take it, before they were so far out to sea that even he’d be lost. Nothing good could come from staying here now. He’d had his chance at humanity, and for a moment, he’d been able to relish in it. But it was over. He didn’t like it. But he’d have to accept it. 

But there _were_ a lot of people around. So it’s not like he could do it _now_. No, that would be too dangerous.

He figured he could afford to stay just a _little_ longer. 

Jonas’ eyes wandered around the ship. It really was a grand vessel, and though it wasn’t as decorated as other ships were, it still captivated him. It was odd, being on board with active seafarers—pirates or no—as opposed to looking up from the waters, or peeking over after scaling the sides. From this new viewpoint, he could see just how massive the sails were when they were filled with air. How long the deck stretched far and wide from his vantage point at the helm. Jonas was amazed anyone could man such a thing. It was all rather intimidating to him. 

The creaking of the steps drew Jonas’ attention, and he looked on in uncertainty as a large man with face tattoos made his way up to them. He seemed a bit more put together than the other two pirates. His outfit looked half coordinated, with a loose vest that matched the bandana on his head, and clean, if not a bit old, looking trousers.

“‘Sup, Cap’n?” he said, addressing Mitch with a teasing tone. “You sound like someone just pissed in your porridge.” The man, now noticing Jonas’ presence, looked him over. He seemed neither friendly nor judgmental as he studied him, but waited to acknowledge his presence. 

“Scratch dragged in another one.” Mitch said. “Can’t talk. Can’t sign. I want you to teach him. Show him around. Make sure he knows where to sleep, that kind of shit.” He looked back to Jonas, and something shifted behind his eyes. He thought he saw his face flush before turning back to the other man. “I’ll be in my quarters. Don’t let anyone bother me.” 

With that, Mitch stalked away, leaving him alone with the green haired woman and tattooed man. Scratch and Javier, respectively.

“Well then,” Javier spoke amiably as he walked up to him, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Welcome aboard, lil’ bro. Name’s Javier. We’ll learn yours soon, so don’t you worry. First, some ground rules. One, help out wherever you can. Two, don’t drink another man’s rum. And three,” Javier said with a smirk. “Don’t piss off the captain.”

Jonas looked from Javier to where Mitch had disappeared below them. He was taken by the urge to follow him, but quelled it enough to focus on what the man beside him was saying. Having no other choice than to just go along with whatever happened, Jonas nodded. 

The locket burned against his chest.

***

Jonas stared out at the sea from his position leaning against the starboard side. The waves sparkled in the rising light of the sun. It was beautiful, but Jonas felt like it was chastising him. 

Two days. 

He’d been on the ship for two days now. 

_There are too many people around_ , Jonas told himself in the beginning. _I should learn a little of that hand speaking stuff first, just in case,_ was the excuse he changed it to after the sun had set on the first day, and the crew around him had fallen asleep. 

Jonas sighed. He knew he was putting it off. He knew his sister had to have been worried, and he wanted more than anything to find her and let her know he was fine. But every time the chance arose to break his spell, his heart grew heavy, and his hand faltered. He’d look to Mitch, and that was it. He couldn’t leave. Not yet. 

There was a lot he wanted to say to him, and a lot to ask, but no way to do it. Javier tried teaching him the...oh, what was the word...all-fah-bit? The symbols they wrote with. The ones in books. Jonas had looked at Javier apologetically as the bigger man realized he had more work cut out for him. In the meantime, Jonas thought about how, and what, he wanted to ask Mitch. He felt something burn inside him. Something like curiosity, but more intense. Not just wondering, but needing to know something.

_Do you remember me?_

He only spent one day with him, years ago, but something about the other boy drew him in. He’d thought before that it was just because he was human. But even now, surrounded by so many of the creatures, Mitch was the one who kept his attention. 

Then again, that could have just been because the ornery man wouldn’t stop bothering him. 

Every time Jonas caught sight of him, he found that the young captain had already had his eyes on him. He’d usually turn away quickly and bark out an order, acting as if he hadn’t been caught staring. One time, though, he maintained his gaze, and smiled at Jonas predatorily. 

Jonas wasn’t sure what to think of that. 

Other times, Mitch was more direct. He’d hover close to him as Javier showed him how to perform various tasks. _Making sure ya don’t mess up nothin’_ he would say. What was more, Mitch would tease him. It was childlike, really. He’d tap his opposite shoulder to confuse him, point to something on his shirt just to flick his finger on his nose. Hold something he needed just a little too far out of his reach.

Jonas also discovered that merpeople and humans shared the practice of noogies. Who’d have thought. 

Despite being mildly annoying, however, he found that he really wasn’t all that scary as he first seemed. He even had moments of kindness. He’d seen how Mitch kept a careful eye on his crew, stepping in when someone was struggling. Anything particularly dangerous he was more often than not trying to do himself as opposed to sending someone else. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d admit it, but he could tell that Mitch cared. 

Lost in thought, Jonas didn’t notice the figure approaching him from behind.

He almost jumped out of his skin when an arm was thrown around his shoulders. Mitch smirked at him. He was without his hat. His light brown hair slicked back. He looked nice. 

“Hey Spots,” he said. Jonas deadpanned at his little nickname. It was a bit ridiculous, but he supposed there wasn’t much he could do until he was able to communicate more effectively. “Saw you come out earlier. Thirsty?” 

Yet again, Mitch had been watching him. Jonas wondered if he had done much else beyond watch him like a hawk these past days. Regardless, Jonas welcomed the mug Mitch handed to him. He had learned that humans had to drink water. Weird, unsalted water. He learned because a few hours in, his head started to hurt, and his throat had become so dry that he had a coughing fit, and it wasn’t until he was directed to a barrel filled with water that he’d been able to ease his pain. Never mind that he had spilled half the contents on himself in his hurry to bate his thirst. Mitch had loved that. 

Nodding in thanks for the generous offer, Jonas took a sip. 

And immediately spit the contents back out. He shook his head, as though he could make the foul flavor leave his tongue quicker. His mouth burned and his eyes watered. Good Poseidon, it was worse tasting than the potion. 

Mitch cackled like a madman. Jonas chided himself for not having seen this coming.

Feeling vindictive, he threw the rest of the contents right onto Mitch’s face. 

Mitch sputtered and wiped at himself with his coat. Jonas laughed breathily.

“Hey!” He said. “Don’t go wasting the rum, shit!” 

Jonas’ heart stuttered. _It tastes like shit but it makes ya feel good._ The voice of a younger Mitch echoed through his mind. So _this_ was rum. He’d always wondered what it was like. 

It was freaking terrible.

Even so, the trigger of the memory had Jonas staring at the man before him, and a thrum of fondness rippled through his chest.

After drying off his face, Mitch mimicked Jonas’ position against the edge, amber eyes boring into his. Not for the first time in the past couple of days, Jonas felt like he was being sized up. 

“Have we met before?” Mitch mumbled suddenly, quietly, as though he was asking himself and not Jonas. 

Jonas’ eyes widened. Did he somehow know? 

Before he had the chance to answer, Mitch shook his head. “Never mind, sorry.” He then smiled his same, shit eating grin. “I woulda’ remembered a face like that.” 

Jonas blinked, trying to figure out if he should feel insulted or not. Mitch squinted his eyes at him, and Jonas raised an eyebrow, mouthing a _what?_ at the other boy’s look. 

“William?” Mitch asked. Jonas stared at him for a moment before mouthing again his confusion. 

“Is that it? Yer name?”

Oh.

Mitch was trying to guess his name? That was...kind of sweet actually. He smiled slowly and shook his head. Mitch kept guessing. But to Mitch’s frustration, his name wasn’t Jack, or Emil, or Simon, or Robert, or Michael, or Jose, or Amir. He groaned.

“I don’t know if I know a lot more names. Uh, fuck, I don’t know...Dean?”

At that Jonas stuck out his tongue, making a face of disgust so strong it was like he’d tried to drink the rum again. Mitch chortled. Jonas’ displeasure melted away, and he giggled along.

“Alright, not that one.” He smiled. Genuinely. 

Jonas felt a little funny.

As Mitch screwed up his face in thought, Jonas noticed movement behind him. Not on the ship, but something peeking up over the side. His eyes blew wide and his mouth fell open as Sidney, looking tired and holding a spear in her hand, glanced around the ship until, finally, spotting him. In one frantic moment, she clawed at the deck, and her voice came out in a harsh whisper. One loud enough for him to just make out.

“ _Jonas!_ ”

She dipped out of sight just as Mitch whipped his head around. “The fuck?” he said. “Fuck was that?” He said, starting to peer over the edge. “...Jonas?” he mumbled.

In a panic, Jonas reached out and grabbed Mitch’s arm, bringing his attention back to him, and away from his sister. Jonas smiled nervously, and nodded his head. To his relief, this made Mitch turn his whole body towards him.

“Jonas? Yer name’s Jonas?”

Again, he nodded. He watched as Mitch’s expression softened. “That’s a…” he began, but stopped himself to clear his throat. “It suits you.” he continued. “I should've guessed you were a Joey, Spots.”

Jonas smiled.

A small explosion rippled through the ship, and Scratch’s voice could be heard shouting from below deck.

“Oy, Cap’n! Cliff almost shot his nuts off!”

At that, Mitch regained his steely composure and scoffed. “If he put a hole in my ship _I’ll_ shoot his nuts off!” he yelled back, beginning to make his way toward where the rest of the crew were. But not before turning back to Jonas. “You comin’?”

Jonas held up a finger and Mitch nodded, heading down below without him. When he was out of sight, Jonas swiveled around to where his sister was now popping her head back up over the side. He ran over to her, and noticed that upon closer inspection, she looked exhausted. Dark bags under her eyes spoke of lack of sleep. She mustn't have slept a wink in order to track him down. As she pulled herself up the rest of the way to embrace him, guilt hit Jonas like a breaching whale. When she pulled back, she raked her eyes over him, checking for signs of harm.

“Thank God you’re okay. You have no idea how worried sick I was! How did you even end up here? You know what, tell me later, let’s just get out of here before anyone else sees.”

Sidney pulled at his arm, still strong as ever despite her current condition, ready to throw him back into the water herself. When Jonas resisted, however, she looked at him in confusion, and a hint of hurt.

“What?” She asked, her tail twitching nervously as she glanced around the ship once more. “What’s the matter? Just break your little magic...ball...thingy and come on! This boat’s giving me the creeps!” 

Again, Jonas shook his head. Sidney gave him an admonishing look. “Oh no, please don’t tell me…”

Jonas wasn’t sure how to convey everything he was feeling. He didn’t know how to express that he couldn’t bring himself to return to the water. How, regardless of the gravity of the situation—both metaphorically and literally—he felt lighter. His physical transformation had changed him internally too, and while he knew he had to return sooner or later, he just couldn’t do it now. He felt like there was something he just had to do, though to be frank, he couldn’t exactly pinpoint what it was. He couldn’t say this, but as Sidney watched his changing expressions, he found he didn’t need to. His sister heaved a heavy sigh.

“Okay, Jojo. If this is something you need...I guess it’s okay. Only if you’re absolutely, totally certain you’re safe here? This isn’t exactly…” she motioned around her, the curl of her lip saying more than her words could. Jonas laughed silently and nodded. He was sure. 

She remained perched upon the side of the ship as long as time would allow. She hugged Jonas tightly again, and he squeezed back tighter, rocking side to side to show his thanks to her. 

Protective as always, however, Jonas knew that she’d trail the ship, and return soon to check on him. 

“And Jonas,” Sidney said, her expression half-heartedly stern. “Try not to get into trouble, okay?”

***

Jonas was learning a lot about this hand speaking business. By the end of the week, he knew a few words and phrases, and had even memorized the alphabet. He was studious by nature, and so, was a quick learner. Javier was patient enough as well, which he was grateful for. 

Mitch was the easiest to talk to. He could read Jonas’ lips with relative ease. While he couldn’t say too many complex things, basic sentences he could express. And when Jonas had trouble, Mitch made pretty good guesses. He’d expected that Mitch, from their imperfect but nevertheless improved form of communicating, would try and figure out his skill sets so he could put him to work faster. Or maybe find out if there was another place he could drop him off at, so that he wouldn’t have to worry about dead weight. 

Instead, Mitch asked him if he liked being out at sea. What his favorite color was. If he played instruments, or had hobbies.

He asked him what his favorite fruit was. Jonas said apples.

Mitch was hanging around him more often than not, eyes flickering between his lips and the rest of him. Sometimes even when Jonas wasn’t trying to say anything. He pretended not to notice. 

To Jonas’ pleasant surprise, he also discovered that he had some purpose on the ship after all. Physical labor was never his strong suit, even though he tried to be helpful. But regardless, he found everyone expressed admiration and gratitude for his ability to organize and mend. Jonas felt a blooming pride when Mitch showered him with praise, having discovered he could actually _fix_ the tears in his sails. And so, Jonas helped to keep safe, orderly, and in working condition all the equipment and tools on board. Something that was desperately needed upon Sugar; an odd name for a ship in Jonas’ opinion. Apparently the captain that Mitch and his crew had stolen it from had named it such, and they just never cared to change it. Jonas shrugged it off.

It was later that day when Jonas found himself in a long line, a thick rope in his hands. The wind was gentle, and the clouds white and fluffy against the soft, blue sky. The mast before them was bare. It’s sail not yet raised. Javier stood tall at the front of the line. He looked back at him and smiled.

“One more important piece of advice, lil’ bro.” He said, adjusting his grip on the hemp. “Never even touch a rope without a workin’ shanty.” 

Javier’s voice was deep and booming as it resounded across the ship. Even though he expected it, it still made Jonas jump.

_“When I was a little boy,_

_So me mother told it to me!”_

Jonas eyes widened in delight as every person behind him sang the next part, already well aware of what to say and do.

_‘Way, haul away,_

_We’ll haul away_ Joe _!’_

It tickled him to find that it was his own name that came from their lips. Not sung like the rest of the words, but grunted and shouted, as everyone used their might to pull at the cord in their hands. The name from the song acting as the cue to move. Javier’s voice thundered the upbeat tune again. 

_“That if I did not kiss the girls_

_Me lips they’d grow all moldy!”_

Jonas giggled at that.

_“Way, haul away,_

_We’ll haul away_ Joe _!”_

Slowly but surely, the sail rose.

_“Say way, haul away,_

_We’ll haul for better weather!”_

Out of the corner of his eye, Jonas could see Bud flapping from his perch on Mitch’s shoulder. 

_“Way, haul away,_

_We’ll haul away_ Joe _!”_

As always, he was watching him. His expression softer upon him than anyone else.

_“Say way, haul away,_

_We’ll haul away together!”_

Jonas felt his face heat up. He blamed it on exertion. 

_“Way, haul away,_

_We’ll haul away,_ Joe _!”_

The sail unfurled and began to flap. The rays of the sun warmed Jonas’ skin. He heaved in time with the rest of the crew. Feeling a sudden sense of comradery amongst the unruly group. Their voices seemed to energize the very air around them. Despite the toil, and the sweat that was beginning to form on his brow, Jonas smiled.

The locket burned against his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just think Javier would have a nice singing voice okay


	6. Thieves and Beggars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *slides in on heelies 3 months late holding an iced coffee* hey
> 
> so! a lot has uhhhh taken place in my life and now i have a new whole apartment AND a new laptop that works! and has NOT exploded....rip old laptop u served me well...so!!!
> 
> Thank u v much for ur patience and welcome to Chapter 6 aka the chapter in which Jonas goes Full Doki Doki, pls enjoy

Mitch was, without a shadow of a doubt, a thief. He was a bit hard to pin down, that was true, but of Mitch’s tendency to take what didn’t belong to him, Jonas could be sure. 

He stole his attention with every gesture he made. He was a flurry of emotions at any given point; stalking menacingly about the ship, taking charge over his crew, and chewing out the ones who got under his skin. His voice, deep and booming, commanded authority, though sometimes all it took was a steely look from the man to set his men into motion. 

He stole Jonas’ time with distractions and pranks at his expense. Wet willies, stupid jokes, and wild goose chases for tools they didn’t even have, making him to search in odd nooks and crannies on his hands and knees just to come up empty, were just some of the ways Mitch decided to plague him. 

But his thievery extended much farther than that.

He stole Jonas’ insecurities from right under his nose. On one memorable occasion, when all of his anxiety and perceived inadequacies tormented him, and Jonas had gone off to be alone, Mitch had stolen his way inside his personal bubble, and, upon seeing the tears in his eyes, had smiled so kindly to him that Jonas couldn’t still his quivering lip. “ _ You can tell me anything, Joey.”  _ Mitch had said. So Jonas did. At least to the best of his ability. He didn’t reveal all the details, but he did talk about Dean. The things he said to him. How not all of his punishments were limited to verbal abuse. How, even now, as he sailed miles away into the unknown, the effects of his adoptive father influenced him, and he felt like he still couldn’t escape. Mitch’s response, to Jonas’ honest surprise, was to hug him. The familiar  _ thump-thump-thumping _ of Mitch’s heart as he rested his head against his chest soothed his pains.  _ “Ain’t no one gonna hurt ya here. I won’t let anyone do nothin’ like that to ya ever again, okay?”  _ Jonas fell apart at that, but Mitch didn’t seem to mind at all. Already used to getting covered in salt water, Jonas supposed. 

And now, standing with him in Sugar’s lookout station, Jonas was convinced that Mitch was trying to steal the very air from his lungs. It made no real sense to be on higher ground to better view the sky, and yet there they were. 

Jonas was using every bit of his willpower not to look down. 

With all the time he had spent over the years looking skyward, he wouldn’t have thought himself to have a fear of heights. But as his knees wobbled and his lurching stomach made a cold sweat break out on the back of his neck, Jonas quickly came to the conclusion that there was indeed such a thing as too high. 

Scratch and Cliff made it look easy. Jonas had always watched on with a sense of admiration as one of them scaled up the mast’s ladder leading to the crow’s nest nearly as fast as they strode across solid ground. At times Scratch would choose to leap and crawl about the ship’s rigging to reach her destination, as though gravity was merely an option for her. Perhaps that’s what made Jonas think that being in their position would instill him with his own sense of lightness and freedom, leading him to agree to Mitch’s suggestion to climb up the length of the mast.

What he really felt, however, was vertigo. 

He began to sway out of tune with the ship, and it was only Mitch’s arm wrapping around his shoulders that anchored him. His cold sweat suddenly turned into a warm one as the heat of Mitch’s body soaked into his own, and the distinct combination of rum, smoke, and something unidentifiably sweet which made up Mitch’s musk clouded his scent. 

The two of them were alone once more, and in spite of the way his heart stuttered in his chest, Jonas couldn’t have been more comfortable. Where most of the crew held him in esteem with a certain mixture of respect and fear, Jonas found that Mitch was easy to be around. Maybe it was because when it was just the two of them, his curled lip softened into a smile that reached his eyes, and he spoke to him in a way more teasing than threatening. 

And with that thought, Jonas turned his attention back to the captain beside him.

“As I was sayin’.” Mitch began, extending his arm and pointing to the sky, tracing the outline of a few stars whose sparkling light was beginning to pierce through the deepening blues and reds of the heavens. “It’s supposed to look like a spoon or whatever, but it looks more like a dick to me.” 

Jonas smiled and rolled his eyes. Mitch moved his finger across the sky. 

“And you just gotta follow the balls of the dick and you can find the even smaller dick.” Jonas’ brow furrowed in concentration and he pointed his own finger to the sky, above the full, rising moon—a full cycle since he’d gotten his legs, Jonas noted—trying to find the stars the young pirate was talking about.

“Nah, a little lower.” 

He tensed and flushed deeply when a strong hand covered his own, correcting his orientation so that their fingertips touched the tail end of the aforementioned constellation. He was held much tighter against him now, and Mitch’s lips were close enough to his ear that his rumbling voice rippled through him like drops of rain on still water. 

“And that’s the North Star. Never really changes position like all the other ones. The small dick is the most reliable. And that’s why size don’t matter, Joey.” 

Jonas elbowed Mitch in the ribs. Mitch just laughed. As his tall companion pulled away, Jonas brought his hands up and began to sign. 

_ ‘And you can navigate with stars like this?’ _ He said. Or rather, that’s what his lips said. Jonas’ shuffling and pointing, if translated literally, was  _ ‘you directions stars?’ _ . Mitch shrugged. 

“It’s kinda a lot to explain, but yeah. I mean, it all depends on where yer looking, what positions they are, what time it is. Shit like that. I can do it better than I can teach it, I don’t know.” 

Jonas had paid attention to how the human crew determined where they needed to go. They used curious, triangular objects that they held to the sky, like they were measuring something. They’d write things down, and look in books, and measure the sky again. They sometimes spent half an hour going back and forth before coming to any conclusions. At least, they did if Mitch was in too sour of a mood to be bothered. Jonas couldn’t fathom how, but the young captain never needed such methods of directing himself. If they needed guidance, Mitch would stop wherever he was and spend a few minutes staring up into the night sky. He’d follow that up with an equal gaze into the dark waters. If Jonas didn’t know better, he’d say it looked as though he was trying to sense something. But without fail, Mitch would come out of his thoughts with an enlightened gleam in his eye, and a command to Scratch to set the ship sailing to where he pointed. If Jonas was being honest, it had left him rather awestruck. 

‘ _ Man _ ,’ Jonas continued. ‘ _ That’s so cool! I can’t imagine how long you must have spent learning this. _ ’ Mitch made a dismissive sound.

“It’s just stars. Ain’t nothin’ too crazy.”

Jonas shook his head. ‘ _ Dude, no _ ,’ he insisted, bringing his hands back up.  _ ‘It’s amazing.’ _ Jonas pointed to Mitch before touching his middle finger to his forehead and flicking his hand away again. 

_ ‘You’re smart _ .’

To his surprise, Mitch seemed at a loss for a snarky comeback. He stared at him, unblinking, with an expression so foreignly vulnerable on his features that Jonas felt his chest tighten with emotion. Mitch looked away, smiling ruefully.

“You must have meant it when you said yer asshole dad didn’t let you get out much, if you’re callin’  _ my _ ass smart.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck. Jonas frowned and gestured for Mitch’s attention. 

_ ‘You are.’ _ Jonas started, pausing and trying to remember how to move his hands. Slowly, he continued.  _ ‘Not everyone is good at the same things. And maybe you don’t think so but, I think you’re really smart, Mitch. _ ’ 

If the look Mitch had given him before made him feel anything, the look he gave him now made him want to cry. It was obvious the man before him had been starved for any kind treatment. And to end up an outcast, as Mitch had called himself and his crew with the kind of pride that was born of injustices, Jonas could only imagine what he had to have gone through to get to this point. The familiar, mysterious ache from a month ago blossomed in him again, and now he could pinpoint why. 

Mitch was a pirate. And that wasn’t a job you took when your life has gone well. 

In an instant, Mitch regained his composure, straightening his spine and giving Jonas a vulturine smile. 

“Yer just tryin’ to butter me up so you get out of deck swabbing duty.” He said, sounding nonchalant as ever. And Jonas might have believed he was, had it not been for the undeniable, apple-red hue that tinted his entire face. In one swift motion, Mitch hooked his arm around his neck and pulled him down so that he could rub his knuckles uncomfortably against his scalp. Jonas kicked and struggled against him, but Mitch’s arm was like a vice. The young captain showed him no mercy, laughing cruelly at his plight. 

Jonas, upon finding Mitch had left the sleeves of his tunic rolled up, took his revenge in the form of a bite to his exposed arm. 

“Agh—!”

Jonas dipped away quickly as Mitch loosened his grip. He laughed and shuffled to the other side of the nest, grabbing onto the mast to use as a buffer between them. 

Mitch’s determined gaze pierced through him, and Jonas laughed again as Mitch crouched playfully, looking like he was ready to pounce.

It was a familiar game to them now. And while sometimes Mitch preferred to sneak up on him—something that never failed to give him a heart attack—Jonas found the spike of adrenaline was, nonetheless, terrible fun. And something Jonas had become quite fond of.

When Mitch finally made a move, Jonas let out a silent scream, trying to get away as his pursuer swung around the mast to grab at him. It was mere luck that he managed to dodge him, running around such a small space. He let go of the mast and went to turn fully toward Mitch, preparing for what would undoubtedly be a wrestling match between the two of them. What he wasn’t prepared for though, was how close he actually was to the short walls encircling them. His heel slammed against it, causing him to effectively lose his balance, and his stomach fell past his feet as he felt himself topple backward and over the edge. 

It was Mitch’s swift reflexes that caught him. 

With a fist full of the front of Jonas’ oversized tunic, Mitch hauled him back up to safety. He pulled him close, as if the nearer against him he was, the safer. Jonas grabbed onto Mitch’s arm instinctively, trying to ground himself, and took a moment to stare widely at nothing at all. He remained frozen like that until his lungs began to burn, and he finally loosened his shoulders, exhaling sharply and returning to reality.

With Jonas’ shirt still in his tight hold, Mitch looked down at him. His expression of fear melted into one of relief, and Jonas felt himself do the same. Mitch huffed out his tension in a curt laugh. 

“There are easier ways to get down, Spots.”

Jonas laughed shakily and nodded, letting the cold chill of fear ease its way out of him as he focused instead on the warm evening breeze, and Mitch’s breath against his face.

And now that he no longer was worried about falling to his death, he was able to worry about just how  _ close  _ he and Mitch had become.

The way Mitch had him nearly lifted by his shirt reminded him of when he first—unwillingly—boarded the ship. He had been so terrified then. Mitch’s accusatory glare was as effective a weapon as any, and he was sure that the man was going to make shark food out of him. It was those same eyes that bore into him now, only with a gentle, half lidded gaze that made Jonas feel like he might fall again. 

Mitch still hadn’t let him go. 

Jonas didn’t want him to. 

Jonas’ mind went blank and his body became numb to everything but Mitch’s movements. Amber eyes flickered down to his lips and back up again, where they electrified the air around them with his gaze. 

Jonas felt hot. 

His mouth fell open gently, and like a cue, Mitch moved even closer to him, dipping his head down until his breath could be felt right upon his lips. Jonas’ eyes fluttered, just about closing, blurring his vision. 

Mitch twisted his hand in his tunic, and it was then that Jonas felt the locket’s chain strain painfully against his neck, the pendant caught up in the bundled fabric of his top. An intrusive series of thoughts struck him then, of the chain snapping, the locket popping open, and the pearl breaking. 

Jonas acted before he thought. 

With wide, fearful eyes, he clasped his mouth shut and reeled back, trying to loosen himself from Mitch’s hold. And Mitch, who’d held him so firmly and safely just a moment ago, ripped away from him with such speed that one might think he’d been stung. 

As Jonas placed a hand over his chest to assure himself that his voice was still safely confined, and that he was still as human as ever, the reality of what almost just happened, followed immediately by what actually  _ did _ , hit him like a tidal wave. 

He... _ really _ hadn’t meant to do that. 

Jonas went to sign something, but Mitch wasn’t looking at him anymore. He made a move to reach out to Mitch when he spoke.

“We should probably head back down.” He said. When he finally turned to look at him, he was smiling again, but the light behind his eyes had dimmed. “Before you try to throw yourself overboard again.” He said it like a joke, but Jonas could tell there was no mirth behind it. 

Jonas frowned.

‘ _ Wait.’ _ He mouthed. Mitch’s face fell and he raised an eyebrow. Jonas swallowed the lump that formed in his throat, and took a deep breath of the briny winds that tossed back his hair. He squeezed the pendant still hidden beneath his tunic before bringing his hands up once more.  _ ‘I need to tell you—‘ _

He was interrupted by Scratch’s shouting from below. 

“Oy! Cap’n! Sail, Ho!”

Jonas deflated as Mitch turned away from him once again, perching a foot upon the lookout’s edge as he whipped out a long tool. A spyglass, Jonas noted in the back of his mind. Mitch had him look through one once, though at the time, the only thing he was able to spy was magnified waves, a crew member's “sand witch” on the other side of the ship, and a blemish on Cliff’s chin.

When Mitch lowered the spyglass, his face was twisted in disgust. 

“It’s one of Niel’s, the rat-faced, lily-livered bastard.” Mitch spat. He turned to Jonas with an air that was vengeful and dangerous. Jonas had learned a bit about Neil and Mitch’s rivalry. At least enough to know that Mitch had earned himself a warrant for his arrest. And, most likely, a date with the gallows, if Neil was ever successful in his attempts to apprehend him.

Jonas didn’t like to think about that.

“It’s your lucky day, Spots.” Mitch said, fingering the cutlass that remained ever safely tucked into his belt. “You finally get to see some action.” 

Wait, what?

Upon realizing that Mitch was planning to raid the ship, Jonas blanched and shook his head. He supposed the whole “pirating” aspect of being amongst, well,  _ pirates _ , hadn’t truly sunk in for him until this moment, and the thought of being a part of a serious crime had him feeling less than confident. 

“S’matter?” Mitch teased. “Not enough danger for ya?”

Jonas gave Mitch a pleading look. 

“Hey, ya know what they say.” Mitch responded, unsheathing his sword and grabbing onto the nearest rope, preparing to slide his way back down onto the deck. 

“No prey, no pay.” 

***

Jonas looked on in apprehension as the crew prepared to board their victim’s ship. Cannons were loaded and blades were sharpened. Everyone aboard flitted to and fro in ravenous anticipation for the upcoming plunder, their hunger for loot apparent as they shouted to one other in excitement. 

“I been prayin’ for beef and pork, Lord, ya sent it to me haven’t ye!” One bearded man said excitedly.

“He’ll be sendin’ ya Death’s Angel if ya find it, ya glutton! It won’t make it off the ship!” A woman laughed. 

“Aye, and heaven’ll be filled with steak!”

“Stuffs to sell should be easy pickin’s with this lot.” Someone else said. 

“A nice cup of their tea and i’ll be alright.” Said another. 

Jonas searched the deck until his eyes landed upon Mitch, cutlass in hand and foot upon the ship’s side. He was dressed once again in his tattered coat and dog-eared hat, and was smiling a cruel smile to the near approaching target. Jonas wanted to say something to him, but it wasn’t like he could convince him not to go through with the raid. And what else would he even say? Good Luck? 

Suddenly, Javier blew past him, jogging his way to the captain.

“Mitch, hold on!” The man said. Jonas moved closer so he could hear the conversation. “This isn’t a trade ship.They’ve got weapons on board. Sure you wanna try to overtake her?”

Mitch scoffed, unphased.

“I  _ know _ what kind of ship it is. All the more reason to try.”

What did  _ that _ mean?

Javier nodded. 

“At your order then, Cap’n Bro.” 

Mitch turned and brought his fingers to his lips, blowing out a sharp whistle, causing all heads to turn, and the chatter to come to a halt. Mitch pointed to Cliff, who had a crooked grin already in place, as if he knew what he was about to say.

“Run a shot across the bow!”

“Aye aye!” 

The crack from the cannon made Jonas’ ears ring as Cliff fired a warning in front of the oncoming vessel. The incredulous looks of the finely dressed men from the other side greeted them, and Mitch called out.

“‘Fraid your sailin’ on  _ my _ waters tonight, boys!”

And just like that, the pirates were upon them, swinging themselves over with a cacophony of battle cries. Jonas could do nothing but watch, biting his nails, as the clatter of swords met his ears. Scratch, who was still on board in order to keep the ship under direction, hooted from her place at the helm. 

“Get ‘em! Kick their nuts off!” she shrieked. Jonas swallowed. 

Their crew was efficient at what they did, Jonas would give them that. With impressive speed they disarmed the opposing seamen and tied them to their own masts. Jonas was at least relieved to not see any major bloodshed going on. He watched on as Mitch shouted commands to his fellow thiefs. The pirates split off in different directions, and Mitch was about to head off somewhere as well, when something one of their captives said must have got his attention. Turning to the other with a scowl, he remained oblivious to the man who had come out of hiding at the far end of the ship with a rapier in his hand, and was carefully approaching him. Jonas’ eyes shifted between the man, Mitch, and the bound seafarer who was talking to him. 

Distracting him. 

Jonas paled and called out to his friend, bringing his hand up to his throat when, of course, nothing came out. He tried to gesture to him, moving wildly to get his attention, but to no avail. The creeping man pointed his sword forward.

Crap. Crap, crap, crap.

Jonas acted before he thought, and dove head first into the water below. He surfaced at the bottom of the opposing vessel, and put his years of ship scaling to use. It didn’t catch Mitch’s attention, but it did grab Scratch’s. 

“Oy, dotty! What are ya doin’ ya crazy bastard!”

He ignored her, focused only on getting to Mitch before the other man did. When he hoisted himself up to the deck and regained his footing, he made a mad dash toward his captain, who finally looked away from the tied up man, a look of pure surprise on his features when he realized it was Jonas making his way towards him. The man with the rapier, realizing he was short on time, followed Jonas’ example, attempting to close the space between him and the pirate. Desperately, Jonas pointed his thumb behind himself and then his index to Mitch.

_ ‘Behind you.’ _

A gleam of understanding lit up Mitch’s eyes, and he swiveled around just in time for his cutlass to meet the other man’s blade. With a grunt, he pushed him back. The other man stumbled, but was quick to strike back, trying to plant his blade effectively into the pirate’s heart. His attempts proved unsuccessful, however, and it wasn’t long before Mitch was able to send the rapier flying across the deck. Finding no more need for weapons, Mitch hoisted the man up by his shirt, and walked him to the edge of the ship where he threw him overboard. Jonas winced at the sound of skin slapping painfully against water. When Mitch returned to his side, he looked Jonas up and down and chuckled.

“There are easier ways to board a ship, Spots.”

Jonas smiled. 

At that moment, Javier came up from his position below deck and beckoned toward them. “Captain! We need your help with something!” 

Mitch followed Javier, and Jonas went to follow Mitch, when the voice of the bound man behind him stopped him in his tracks. 

“You’re fools if you think you’re going to get away with it.” he said. Jonas was prepared to ignore him and walk off, when he continued. Talking about something much different than what he originally thought. “Even if you find the other half of the map, we’ll be one step ahead of you. Even if you find where it leads you, you lot will die before you can even touch the damn treasure. Your blasted captain may believe in that bollocks about the wish, but we’ll cut him down before he can so much as blow out a candle. You’ll die one way or another, you hear me? All of you.” 

Jonas blinked and looked back at the man in confusion. His face was twisted in contempt. Jonas tried to sign to him, to figure out what he meant, but apparently, he was as unfamiliar with handspeak as Jonas had first been. Despite his position, the man looked up at Jonas with disgust, as though he was beneath him. 

“Dumb. Figures. Only useless thieves and beggars, the lot of you.”

Jonas decided it was time to get back to Mitch.

Without warning, people started piling out from below deck. Some he recognized as their crew, but many of them he had never seen before. They weren’t as finely dressed as the rest of the crew. On the contrary, they looked worn down and raggedy. They were young and old, but consisted mostly of women and children. Some of them were crying. 

Finding Javier, Jonas gave him a questioning glance. 

“P.O.W.’s.” said Javier solemnly. “Prisoners of war. These were just civilians. Innocent people. Were going to be killed. Or maybe worse.” 

Jonas looked back over the group of recently freed people, and his stomach tossed. 

At long last, Mitch made his way up onto the deck, holding a large bundle in his arms. He looked as though he was ready to cut someone down, his brow furrowed as he looked around the ship. The dirty blanket which wrapped around what he was holding fell, revealing not an object, but a little girl, who looked wide eyed and terrified. She looked with glazed eyes over the ship until she spotted someone, and that someone spotted her back. A woman, crying and laughing in relief, ran her way over to the two of them, and Mitch sat the girl carefully down on the deck. The woman wrapped her arms around the child, kissing her cheek and holding her protectively in her grasp. The scene struck Jonas as familiar. 

The woman looked up at the pirate captain and spoke in a manner Jonas had never heard before. Even so, her watery voice could only be described as grateful.

“Merci monsieur, merci, que Dieu vous bénisse! Dieu te bénisse!”

Mitch scratched his chin, looking awkward.

“Uh...don’t mention it.” he said, looking around until his eyes landed on Jonas. The light of the rising moon mingled with the setting sun, and reflected themselves delicately against his amber irises. He smiled warmly at him. 

Jonas felt his heart thud painfully against his ribs. He placed his hand over his chest, as though that would keep the organ safe. But, yet again, Mitch proved himself a successful thief.

  
Poseidon help him, he was in  _ love _ . 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idgaf if it's the 1700s u can rip the use of the word 'dude' from my cold dead hands


End file.
